


Resume, (re)focus

by paishhao



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Everyone talks a lot, Flashbacks, Getting Back Together, M/M, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Non-Linear Narrative, Pining, Slow Build, Slow Burn, it'll be fine in the end I swear, look they were together and they broke up and there's pining, petty jealous minghao is a thing, side verkwan - Freeform, there are a lot of conversations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:40:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 189,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24592441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paishhao/pseuds/paishhao
Summary: AU. Three years ago, Minghao was a freelance photographer in a relationship with Wen Junhui, a model he hired once to fluff up his portfolio. Until they broke up, Junhui left for China, and Minghao thought he'd never see him again.Now, Minghao has moved up to professional photographer and is doing perfectly fine, according to him. But once Wen Junhui comes back from overseas, bitter and angry, and they navigate working with each other again, Minghao strives to figure out if he still has a spot for Junhui in his world, or if Junhui even still has one for him.
Relationships: Wen Jun Hui | Jun/Xu Ming Hao | The8
Comments: 181
Kudos: 184





	1. How I long to be waiting at the start

**Author's Note:**

> HAPPY THE8 OF JUN(E)! (and early Wen Junhui day!)  
> I know that model-Junhui and photographer-Minghao are pretty typical AU roles for them, but you know what they say: if it ain't broke...  
> this is going to be a long-ish journey that I really wanted to do and we going s l o w out here.
> 
> side pairings planned so far are Minwon and Verkwan. the Minwon won't happen for a while but it'll be there eventually. if side pairings get added/changed, I'll list them here since I'm scared of clogging their tags

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from I Understand by Wen Junhui
> 
> I'm Canadian so I use 'cheque' since calling it a 'check' looks weird to me and I confuse it with like 'to check on' or a 'routine check (inspection)'. But for clarification 'cheque' is that paper you write payments on and sign. (I still take the 'u' out of words like 'favorite' for y'all so pls understand) it only comes up once again after this chapter  
> I hope you enjoy~!

“Myungho-hyung! Did you hear that Moon Junhwi is back?” Hansol calls, walking up to the table where Minghao is.

Minghao freezes, blood running cold at the words he never thought he’d hear.

Those words, sure, they existed in modern vernacular, but those specific words “Moon Junhui is back” in that exact order? Minghao thought it would never happen.

First, hearing someone say “Moon Junhwi” is abnormal for Minghao. It shouldn’t be, seeing as he used to work here. He was technically one of the agency’s top-performing models until he left for China almost three years ago. 

It wasn’t exactly a _big_ secret in the company that he and Minghao had been in some sort of relationship with each other, even if most people didn’t really know what that relationship was. Minghao didn’t see what the big deal was, it wasn’t like they were the only company romance that existed. But once Junhui left, most people in the company had specifically avoided mentioning “Moon Junhwi” around Minghao. 

He used to pretend he didn’t notice, the way they would stop talking if he walked by, the way they rushed to hide magazines and hurriedly scroll passed articles on their computer if he happened to be approaching. It wasn’t like Minghao didn’t already know they were all about Wen Junhui and his ventures in China. It wasn’t like Minghao didn’t keep up with them himself. 

One day, Minghao had snapped, accidentally, on two makeup staff members who happened to shove a magazine featuring Wen Junhui behind their backs in a rush just as Minghao was approaching to give them notes for the day. He told them, loudly enough for everyone in the room to hear, that they didn’t have to keep hiding the fact that Wen Junhui existed in front of him. He admits it was a knee-jerk reaction, having gotten tired of the stares and whisperings and hiding, and the trip to HR was worth it if it meant people would just act normal around him.

However, this outburst had the opposite effect, as they tried even harder to avoid mentioning or having Wen Junhui’s pictures visible somewhere. When Hansol was brought in afterwards, specifically to work under Minghao, it seemed no one had informed him of the “Moon Junhwi” rule. 

Which brings Minghao to his second point. Not only is Hansol one of the only people who would actually say “Moon Junhwi” in front of him, but this time it had a very important “is back” appended to it, something Minghao never thought would happen. Minghao hadn’t expected Junhui to ever come back to South Korea, specifically Seoul, even more specifically this company. Not with the way things ended.

Minghao coughs, busily moving his hands. “Oh. Is he?” 

Hansol nods, hands moving to help Minghao pack up. “Yeah, I heard Seungcheollie-hyung mention before that he’d be coming back, but I didn’t think it’d be so soon, you know?”

For a brief moment, Minghao wishes Hansol knew how Wen Junhui coming back wasn’t just something to talk about so casually. But Minghao is too distracted by the fact that Hansol said Junhui was coming back because of _Seungcheol._ “Ah.”

“He was really popular before, right?”

After another pause, Minghao hums and nods once, unsure of what he should say.

Hansol notices Minghao’s dark expression. “Are you going to be okay?” He tilts his chin down, eyes watching Minghao warily.

“Yeah.” Minghao clears his throat abruptly. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

“It’s just you’re kind of acting really weird right now, hyung,” Hansol replies with a casual shrug. “And Mingyu-hyung pretty much told me what happened. Between you and Junhwi-ssi.”

 _Of course he did._ “Well, Mingyu _-ssi_ needs to keep his mouth shut.” For emphasis, Minghao slams his case shut and aggressively clicks the locks in place. “Stop spending so much time with him, I don’t want you to pick up his bad habits.”

“But hyung, he’s _your_ best friend,” Hansol argues. “And I only spend time with Mingyu-hyung if it’s work-related!”

Minghao side eyes him, lugging the case off the table. “Uh-huh.”

“I promise!” Hansol holds his hands up in surrender. “Only if his manager is involved.” 

Minghao smirks as he heads for the door. “You leave his poor manager alone.”

Hansol grins and jogs up beside Minghao, following him out the door. “No promises, hyung.”

***** *****

_The first time Minghao ever meets Wen Junhui is back when Minghao is still a freelance photographer._

_He’d spent an exorbitant fee on asking model Moon Junhwi if he could take some shots of him for his portfolio. Moon Junhwi was a pretty prolific model, and Minghao would be lying if he said he wasn’t trying to use Moon Junhwi’s star power for his own benefit. But it benefited Moon Junhwi’s bank account too so he guesses it’s fair._

_He wrestled with the idea at first, because that money usually went towards his rent and he already feels bad enough that his roommate is pulling most of the weight in that department. But he reasoned that if he got enough good shots of a model like Moon Junhwi to beef up his portfolio, he’d be able to get better gigs and make up for that hole he just caused in his bank account._

_It was an investment, Minghao told himself, spend now and hopefully get more money from it later. He just didn’t know what to expect; he doesn’t know anything about Moon Junhwi personally; he mostly exchanged emails with Junhui’s manager, Jisoo, who seemed nice enough. But with Moon Junhwi himself, Minghao has no idea what to expect in terms of personality._

_Minghao especially doesn’t expect Moon Junhwi’s first words to him._

_“Am I going to get yelled at and run out crying too?”_

_“Excuse me?”_

_Junhwi shoves his hands in his baggy pants pockets with a shrug as he comes into the room, fresh from hair and makeup. “I heard a model got yelled at until she ran out crying. I was wondering if the same thing was going to happen to me.”_

_Minghao coughs and tries to cover his face behind his camera. “Are you saying that was because of me?”_

_“I'm just telling you what I've heard.” Junhwi takes exaggeratedly long strides into the photo area, head tilted back slightly. “I didn't say it was you,” he says, cheeky._

_For a photograph, the image would have looked great. The beret placed precariously on the back of his head, the head tilt back and coy side glance, the white t-shirt to compliment the dark windbreaker draped near his elbows, his hands placed casually in his pockets as he took his long strides and emphasized the bagginess of the pants. Overall, it looked great._

_But in front of Minghao's eyes right now, it seems mocking._

_“Tch, I'm not the yelling type,” Minghao scoffs, refocusing his camera lens._

_“I still didn't say it was you.”_

_“No talking, please.”_

_“They're photographs, no one is going to know.”_

_“I'll know. It annoys me, I need quiet.”_

_“Then how will you direct me?”_

_Minghao gulps again, pretending he didn't hear. He calls over one of the makeup artists to retouch some of Junhwi’s foundation._

_“Thought you needed quiet?” Junhwi asks as his nose gets tapped away by the small brush._

_“That's different, that's related to the job,” Minghao replies quickly, hoping to cover his embarrassment._

_The makeup artist scurries off after finishing her task and Minghao rechecks the camera viewfinder. “Play with your collar a bit.”_

_Junhwi does as asked without speaking._

_“Okay, can you do, like, a cold stoic kind of look?” Minghao prattles on, clicking away with his shutter, moving around a bit for different angles._

_He thinks he sees Junhwi smirk for a split second before he, again, does exactly as asked without retort. It starts to get unnerving and Minghao can't tell if this is good or not. On one hand, Junhwi is very good, extremely good; he does exactly the type of poses Minghao asks for. He even manages to get the vibe Minghao wants, especially with his eyes._

_The bad part is that Junhwi still hasn’t spoken since his request, even when coming over to check on the photos. He approves all of them with a nod and an ‘ok’ sign with his fingers. Him not speaking doesn't affect the photos but other clients say it helps them feel relaxed. It’s his first time working with Junhwi so he starts to feel bad that this is the impression he’s giving him. He doesn’t want to burn this bridge before it’s even fully built._

_“I … Junhwi-ssi, you can talk,” Minghao finally concedes._

_Junhwi freezes, face completely neutral. “I don't know what pose that is,” he says, serious._

_“It's not a pose, it's a request. I'm saying you can talk during the shoot, it feels weird otherwise.”_

_Junhwi quirks his head to the side quickly, lips crooking up one side of his mouth in a sort of half-smirk. He then starts posing in what Minghao is guessing is Junhwi’s literal interpretation of “you can talk,” exaggerated mouthings and gestures like he’s gasping and cooing at an imaginary person but no sound comes out. Then he starts doing dramatic pointing gestures at a slight angle off the camera, like he’s in a courtroom drama. Minghao doesn’t bother clicking the shutter button._

_“That wasn’t a pose direction. You didn’t have to do that,” he says, not able to stop himself from giggling a bit._

_Junhwi looks over to his manager and does a few eye movements and his brow occasionally quirks up. Jisoo then comes up beside Minghao and whispers, “Junhwi-ssi says that’ll be an extra ten thousand won then.”_

_Minghao’s head whips back to Junhwi. “Ten thousand won for what?”_

_Junhwi does another quirk of the head to the side, eyes wide._

_“The extra posing you had him do. If you’re not going to take pictures, it’s a waste of his time and energy,” the manager supplies again, voice even._

_Sighing, Minghao fishes his wallet out and shoves a ten thousand won note into Jisoo’s hand. The manager looks up when Junhwi clears his throat and does a few hand gestures and points at Minghao. With a nod, Jisoo fishes out his own wallet and hands Minghao back a five thousand won note._

_“He changed his mind,” he says again, “just five thousand won.”_

_Minghao wants to argue because_ what the fuck is going on _but Junhwi clears his throat again, one hand on his hip and the other holding up his spread-out hand dramatically over his head. He’s taking long strides again, emphasizing the hand he’s holding up. Curiously, Minghao checks his watch; he only has five minutes left booked with him._

_“Thanks,” Minghao mutters quickly back to Jisoo, pocketing the won note and going back into position with the camera in a rush. He asks one of the stylists to adjust Junhwi’s hair before continuing. This time, he gives specific directions, down to the exact positioning of each body part. “And turn your other foot three more degrees to the right.”_

_At first, he’s mostly doing it to mess with Junhwi, retaliation for the won debacle earlier, but to his surprise, Junhwi does exactly as he says and is able to nail the degrees perfectly, still not talking._

_Finally, Junhwi calls out, “Thank you! You worked hard!” holding his hands up over his head before doing a ninety-degree bow. When he stands back upright, his demeanor changes and he does a squished sort of cat smile, clapping his hands together excitedly as he jogs over to shake the hands of the makeup and styling crew._

_Minghao loses track of him when Jisoo comes up, handing him a business card. “If you would require Moon Junhwi’s services again,” he says in a warm voice with a small bow. Minghao takes the card and the manager watches him expectantly._

_As Minghao realizes what he wants and fishes out his own business card, Junhwi slings his arm around his manager’s neck from behind. “Ah, Shua-hyung, let’s go get food!” he sighs, smiling. “I’m in the mood for malatang.”_

_At this, Minghao gets temporarily distracted as he hands his business card to Junhwi’s manager, who Minghao thought was Jisoo but is presumably also Shua._

_Once it touches Jisoo’s hand, Junhwi delicately takes the card between his middle finger and thumb, turning it over in his hand, inspecting it. “Ah.” He looks back at Minghao, eyes gleaming. “Thank you for your hard work today.”_

_Minghao isn’t sure what to say back but tries to get out an echo of what Junhwi said. “Thank you for your hard work, Junhwi-ssi, I’ll definitely—”_

_“Thanks for not yelling at me and making me cry,” Junhwi cuts in casually, rotating the card in his hand and smirking. “Myungho-ssi.”_

_“I —” Minghao pauses. “No problem.”_

_Junhwi grins. “Wonderful,” he says, tucking the business card away. “Let’s go, Shua-hyung!” He leads his manager away, arm still slung around his neck._

_+++_

_“Was there a rumor going around that I yelled at a model until she cried?” Minghao asks, putting his wine glass down on the kitchen table._

_“You’re asking me this why?” Mingyu replies, buzzing around the kitchen gathering utensils before he sits down, placing a ramen bowl in front of each of them._

_“The model I photographed today said he heard that was a thing that happened. And you’re a model. Don’t you guys have like, rumor circles or something?”_

_An unexpected laugh pushes through the front of Mingyu’s lips. “What do you think we are?”_

_Minghao takes another sip. “Don’t you model folks talk amongst each other, like which photographers to avoid and shit?”_

_“Well, yeah, but that’s mostly for our own safety, dude. Like if someone’s sleazy or doesn’t pay us properly. It’s not like it’s a gossip ring,” Mingyu retorts. Minghao sighs, seeing his point. “Who did you hear that from anyways?”_

_“That I yelled at someone until she cried?” Minghao asks to clarify._

_Mingyu nods and grunts, putting chopsticks in front of Minghao as he blows on his own ramen bowl._

_“Moon Junhwi.”_

_Mingyu puffs out a chuckle through his nose. “Oh, Junnie,” he says in an amused tone, almost with some fond familiarity, and slurps his noodles._

_Minghao starts poking around at his own ramen bowl with his chopsticks before gathering some in his soup spoon. “You know each other?”_

_“Dude, you just accused us ‘model folks’ of having rumor circles and now you’re surprised we know each other?” Mingyu asks with a laugh. “We haven’t spoken per se, but we just hear about each other from other models and such. He’s messing with you.”_

_“What do you mean, he’s messing with me?”_

_“He always does that with new photographers he meets, tells them he heard they did some outlandish thing to a previous model and sees how they handle it,” Mingyu replies, nonchalant._

_Minghao’s brow furrows. “Why would he do that?”_

_Mingyu scoffs. “Why are you asking me, do I look like Moon Junhwi to you? Ask him at your next shoot.”_

_“I don’t_ have _another shoot booked with him.”_

_“Well, that’s not my fault, now is it? Now pass me the sesame oil please, roomie.”_

*****

Before going home, Minghao tells Hansol that he has to check on something real quick and sends the younger boy ahead without him. Hansol quirks a brow and seems suspicious but, with an unreadable blank expression, lets it go, nodding. He shoves his earphone buds in and silently heads out.

Minghao makes his way over to the elevators, impatiently tapping the up arrow until one of them arrives. He has to talk to Seungcheol.

“I can’t let you do that,” Jeonghan replies, leaning forward on his desk, elbows propped up. “Cheollie’s in a meeting right now.”

Minghao looks over Jeonghan’s shoulder to try to see through the glass windows of Seungcheol’s office. He can make out Seungcheol talking to the backs of two figures sitting in the chairs in front of Seungcheol’s desk. “Moon Junhwi’s in there right now, isn’t he?” he asks darkly.

Jeonghan quickly looks over his shoulder and sighs, dropping his head. “I take it Hansollie told you?”

Minghao lifts a shoulder.

“Look, Myungho…” he starts. Minghao watches, waiting for him to continue but Jeonghan’s wrist just rotates in an ongoing gesture, his expression looking like he didn’t actually intend on finishing. “Okay, we were going to tell you earlier,” Jeonghan finally says with a sigh, giving up.

“And why didn’t you?”

“Because we knew you’d react like _this._ ” Jeonghan’s tone is annoyed, accusatory, gesturing up and down at Minghao as if it justifies their decision. 

Minghao’s eyes narrow at Jeonghan and he takes a sharp inhale through his nose. “One of you should have told me.”

Jeonghan sighs. “I had Hansollie tell you. Is that not good enough?”

“Cowards.” 

Hansol was brought in as Minghao’s assistant only two months after Wen Junhui left. He wasn’t there to be involved in what can basically amount to company gossip. Not that Hansol would really care anyways. In the time he’s known the boy, Minghao can appreciate that Hansol knows how to stay in his own lane.

It still didn’t excuse Jeonghan bringing Hansol into said company gossip just to avoid having to deal with Minghao himself.

Jeonghan shrugs, an unbothered smirk on his face. “But it worked, didn’t it? You didn’t get mad at _him._ And you still found out. I still win.”

“I would’ve been _less_ mad at you if you told me earlier. Like when you found out.”

“I couldn’t take that chance. You would’ve been distracted from work that entire time.”

“Define ‘that entire time’.”

“Couple weeks ago.” Jeonghan shrugs again, still nonchalant. 

“Can you at least tell me _why_ Seungcheol-hyung brought Junhwi back?” Minghao grinds out, growing impatient.

Jeonghan crooks a brow. “Not my place to say,” he says, an amused grin creeping on his face. “Would you like me to book you a meeting with him so you can discuss it?”

“Is that really necessary?” 

“Is this conversation?” 

Minghao sighs, looking around just as the door to Seungcheol’s office door opens. Jisoo shuffles out, calm smile in place and nodding. He’s saying a few last words to Seungcheol that turn into muffled noise in Minghao’s ears when he notices Junhui right behind, eyes looking around and briefly meeting Minghao’s before gluing themselves to his phone, a drink in his other hand.

Minghao has seen Junhui’s face more than a thousand times, and that number has probably tripled in the time they’ve been apart. Junhui’s been in prints and magazine shoots the company was sent over, the ones that the other staff members used to keep trying so hard to hide from Minghao. But most importantly, Junhui’s face was still in all the files Minghao has in his hard drive and on his phone. 

When they broke up almost three years ago, Minghao had no doubt he would see Junhui’s image again; it was inevitable, considering the industry they were in. It was a thought that haunted Minghao for that entire time they’d been apart, but he knew he had to deal with it and accept it. Despite knowing that, however, Minghao never thought he’d ever see Junhui’s face in front of his own again.

It wasn’t the same, seeing him in person again, something Minghao realizes all too painfully as his breath hitches, his head feels like it’s spinning, and his knees threaten to give way. Junhui’s hair is a bit longer, dyed darker, strands falling over his forehead. His cheeks appear a bit more sunken than Minghao remembers but he seems to fill out his shirt better. He looked like he had been doing well. His eyelids look a bit heavy and Minghao knows him enough to know it’s not because of fatigue. And despite these things, Junhui still somehow seems the same to him, except for one thing.

Junhui’s eyes had always been Minghao’s favorite feature about him, just narrowly edging out the marks on his face. His eyes were always bright and full of warmth and understanding and comfort whenever Minghao saw them, usually completely different to how he made his eyes look in photos. But now, in the brief second he looked at them, they were dull and cold, hardening. Minghao had only seen them like that once before outside shoots, when they broke up, and it makes his heart ache that they still look at him like that. 

“Ah, Myungho! “ Jisoo exclaims warmly as he spots him, cordial as ever. Minghao’s attention snaps to him, watching Jisoo’s arm move like he’s about to half-hug Minghao, but reconsiders and claps his hand against his instead. “Long time, no see!”

“Yeah, it’s been a while,” Minghao breathes out, eyes flickering once again to Junhui for any reaction. Besides a small sniffle of his nose, the model remains impassive and sips at his straw, eyes focused on his phone screen like he didn’t hear anything.

Of course Junhui wouldn’t acknowledge him even after Jisoo called attention to him, Minghao muses to himself, he has a right to. Minghao was the bad guy in all this, after all, would still be in the older boy’s mind. He wonders how many things Junhui told Jisoo about how their relationship ended during their time in China.

“Well, good to have you guys back!” Seungcheol calls out with a wide friendly smile, cutting through the odd air and patting Jisoo’s back. “Hope to have something for you by next week!”

Jisoo smiles in gratitude, putting an arm around Junhui’s shoulders as he leads him past Minghao and to the elevators. Minghao watches them go, staring until they disappear into one of the elevators and are completely out of Minghao’s sight.

“Hi, Myungho, did you need to see me about something? I can spare a few seconds if it’s urgent but otherwise, I have another meeting upstairs soon so Hannie would have to book you,” Seungcheol says, his voice carrying a tone of sympathetic patience and restrained urgency. 

Minghao turns back to look at them, coming back to reality; Seungcheol’s eyes are full of concern while Jeonghan is resting his chin on a pen he’s holding sideways between his fingers, grinning. Minghao really believes that Seungcheol would push back his meeting for him if he felt he needed to, Minghao's always liked Seungcheol.

“No,” he sighs. “No, it’s fine.”

Seungcheol nods. “Well, always good to see you. Sorry, I gotta run,” he says, sounding slightly out of breath. He jogs past them both, tapping a corner of Jeonghan’s desk twice as he does, and heads to the elevators. 

Minghao eyes the spot on Jeonghan’s desk and flicks his eyes to the owner. “What’s that mean?”

Jeonghan leans back in his chair, stretching his arms up exaggeratedly. “It’s his way of telling me to deal with things while he’s gone.”

“Does he really have another meeting upstairs?” 

“He does,” Jeonghan replies curtly, “but that’s not really any of your business, is it?”

Minghao bites the inside of his cheek. 

“Just like the reason for Junnie coming back isn’t really your business either,” he continues, eyes imploring, the appended _‘not anymore’_ blatantly apparent. Minghao isn't surprised, he's always known that Jeonghan favored Junhui a bit more than he did Minghao, doted over him more and was a tad more protective.

Minghao sighs in frustration, turning his head away. 

“Look Myungho,” Jeonghan sighs, pointing the end of his pen at him, “the bottom line is that Junnie’s back. And I’m sorry, but you will have to learn to deal with it and be professional about it. Are you going to be okay?”

Minghao frowns. “Thanks for your time,” he says snidely, turning to leave.

“Always here for you, sunflower!” Jeonghan calls after him. 

Minghao raises a hand in acknowledgement and doesn’t look back.

*****

_Three days after his first shoot with Moon Junhwi, Minghao gets a text._

‘Hello Seo Myungho-ssi, this is Hong Jisoo, manager for Moon Junhwi. We met the other day. Junhwi-ssi would like to request your services for a photoshoot next week Wednesday. Please let us know if you would be interested/available to do this shoot. Junhwi-ssi is willing to start with 150,000 won for the hour as payment.’

_Minghao immediately texts back that yes, he’s interested and lists some of his requirements._

‘Wonderful. Junhwi-ssi will see you next Wednesday at 13:30. I will send you the building location when it is confirmed.’

_Minghao arrives forty-five minutes early, partially because he’s paranoid and partially because he needs to set up his equipment. When he gets to the room of the building Jisoo had given to him, he sees Junhwi sitting in his makeup chair, being tended to._

_Junhwi glances up from his phone to see Minghao’s reflection and smiles. “Ah, Seo Myungho-ssi, you’re here!” he says excitedly before being instructed to close his eyes._

_“Of course, I agreed, didn’t I?”_

_Junhwi just hums back and Minghao keeps walking until Jisoo gingerly touches his elbow and leads him to the photography location._

_“Thank you so much for agreeing to this, Myungho-ssi,” Jisoo says, producing a paper from his lapel pocket. “Junhwi really insisted on booking you.” Minghao’s getting his lights out of his case when Jisoo hands him a cheque. “Your payment.”_

_“Doesn’t that usually come at the end?” Minghao asks, taking the cheque anyways without looking at it, tucking it in his pants pocket._

_“Do you plan on running away now that you have the payment?”_

_“No.”_

_Jisoo smiles. “Then it’s no problem.”_

_Minghao has finished setting up and is looking through his camera lens, doing some test shots with Jisoo when Junhwi comes in._

_“Ah, I went through all the trouble of booking you and you’re just going to take photos of my manager instead?” Junhwi teases, still taking his oddly dramatic long strides. When he gets to Jisoo, he leans in to inspect his face. “You’re not crying, are you?”_

_Jisoo laughs, patting Junhwi on the shoulder and getting out of the photography area._

_“You booked me again after thinking I yelled at another model and made her cry?” Minghao asks, voice light and teasing._

_“You didn’t do it to me last time,” Junhwi returns, shrugging. “Are you saying you’re planning on doing that to me today?”_

_“I told you,” Minghao says, trying to laugh the accusation off, “I don’t yell.”_

_“We’ll see.” The sly cat smile slips back on his face. “So, how do you want me?”_

_Minghao is a bit stunned, blinking rapidly. “Excuse me?” He’s starting to wonder how many of these interactions he’ll have with Junhwi. The model in question just watches him expectantly. “Wait, what’s the theme of the shoot we’re doing?” Minghao turns around to look at Jisoo for notes._

_Jisoo’s lips twist into a knowing smirk and he just tilts his chin towards Junhwi, who is curiously leaning forward, tapping his knees. “What, you think you’re the only one who needs to beef up their portfolio?” the model responds._

_Minghao coughs and nods, forcing a good-natured smile. “Oh. Right, of course.”_

_“You’re so cute,” Junhwi giggles out, standing upright and covering his mouth with the back of one hand._

_Minghao clears his throat. “No talking, please.”_

_Junhwi just grins, lowering his hand. “Ah right, of course.”_

_Minghao gives out some specific instructions again, mostly listing off the degrees he wants certain body parts to be at. He’s mostly messing with him again but Junhwi still does it and manages to make it not look as mechanical as Minghao makes it sound. After that, he gives Junhwi some free reign in movements and just calls out overall vibes he wants._

_And again, when Junhwi checks the pictures during the breaks, he just nods and smiles with an ‘ok’ hand sign._

_After the shoot is finished, Junhwi runs over to thank the styling and makeup staff like an overexcited child before making his way back to Minghao who’s packing up._

_“So, Myungho-ssi, I talked to Hyejin,” Junhwi starts, sidling up beside Minghao._

_“I’m sorry, who?” Minghao asks, distracted as he makes sure his equipment children are packed away safely._

_“The model that got yelled at until she cried.”_

_Minghao nods. “Ah. You still think that was me?”_

_“I never said it was you,” Junhwi insists, another smirk creeping on his lips. “Anyway, she said she was just really nervous and overwhelmed.”_

_Minghao doesn’t know what to say. “Well, apologize to her for me then, would you?”_

_“I thought you didn’t do it?” Junhwi asks, grin growing wider and Minghao can see his tongue poking against his teeth._

_“I don’t think I did, but you wouldn’t be telling me if I wasn’t involved, right?”_

_“Maybe I’m just trying to make conversation.” Junhwi shrugs. “You don’t let me talk during shoots.”_

_Minghao clicks his case shut. “Still, apologize to this Hyejin-ssi for me anyways, would you?”_

_Junhwi chuckles. “Will do. Looking forward to working with you again, Myungho-ssi.”_

_Minghao bows and leaves the set._

_+++_

_When he gets home after the shoot and starts preparing his card reader to start sending over the files, Minghao pulls the cheque out from his pants pocket. There’s fifty thousand won more than what Jisoo had initially texted him. He texts Jisoo about it, believing it to be a mistake._

_‘There’s no mistake, Myungho-ssi. Moon Junhwi signed that one himself.’_

_Minghao doesn’t know what to make of this. He fishes out the business card he got from Jisoo, flipping it around a couple times to see if there’s a number for Junhwi somewhere but there isn’t; just Jisoo’s contact information._

_He texts Jisoo back and asks him to thank Junhwi for him. Although, he isn’t sure why Junhwi would do that._

_“Do you know a model named Hyejin?” he asks towards his roommate’s back._

_Mingyu sighs, scrubbing the dishes slightly more aggressively. “I swear to god, Myungho. I don’t ask you if_ you _know every photographer in this industry, do I?”_

_Minghao walks up behind him, patting his back. “Do you know one or not?”_

_“Ugh, yeah, I know like, three. Why?”_

_“Junhwi said that’s the name of the model who I apparently made run out crying.”_

_“Jesus,” Mingyu grumbles, laying a plate on the drying rack. “I told you, Moon Junhwi just likes to mess with photographers, that probably didn’t even happen.”_

_Minghao groans, leaning his head against his roommate’s shoulder._

_“Why aren’t you asking yourself if_ you _know a model named Hyejin? If you photographed her, you would have remembered her name, right? Especially if you did something like making her cry,” Mingyu asks, exasperated._

_Minghao waves a hand around. “If it was a one-time gig, I probably don’t remember that well. I can match faces but names are harder so I’d have to see her to remember.”_

_“Whatever.” Mingyu finishes rinsing the last dish and sets it on the rack._

*****

Minghao shoves the door open with unnecessary force as he barges into Mingyu’s apartment. “You told Hansol?!”

“And a good evening to you too,” Mingyu replies calmly, not looking up as he chops and separates raw chicken pieces. “What did I tell Hansol?”

“You told Hansol about me and Moon Junhwi.” 

“Oh. Yeah.” Mingyu’s eyes flit to him for a second before he goes back to focus on his cutting board. “So?”

Minghao sputters a confused choking noise, hands gesturing. “Aren’t you going to tell me _why?_ ”

“Because I knew _you_ weren’t going to and I figured he’d find out eventually anyway,” Mingyu replies casually, shrugging.

“He’s my assistant, he doesn’t need to know about my dating history.”

Mingyu moves over to the food garbage to dispose of the unusable scraps. “I told him a while ago, what’s the big deal?”

Minghao stops. “The _big deal_ is that Junhwi’s back. My boss brought him back from overseas.”

Mingyu pauses his activities and looks seriously up at him. “Oh shit. Are you going to be okay?” 

“Why does everyone keep asking me that?”

Mingyu takes a step back, holding his hands up. “Hey, you tell me, you’re the one that barged in here all upset and huffy. You don’t even live here anymore.”

Minghao goes over to slump back on Mingyu’s sofa, sighing. 

“Why does it matter so much if Hansol knows anyways? What, are you like, involved with him too now?”

Minghao scoffs, holding a hand to his forehead and pushing off his bangs. “Of course not. I just didn’t want _anyone_ to know. The less people, the better. Half the company is already scared to mention Moon Junhwi in front of me as it is,” he replies, putting his feet up and crossing them at the ankles. 

“Tch, as they should be.”

Minghao decides to ignore Mingyu’s retort. “Besides, I’m pretty sure Hansollie has a thing for your manager.”

Mingyu’s head perks up at this. “Oh, really?” 

“He specifically told me he only tries to practice taking pictures of you if your manager is involved. Tried to say it was because he only wanted it to be for work-related reasons but you know….”

“Hansol, you dog,” Mingyu replies, grinning as he tosses one of his chicken pieces in his egg wash and bread crumbs.

Minghao sighs, out of responses. His mind wanders back to the Junhui situation, replaying their brief encounter outside Seungcheol’s office over and over again. Junhui was right there in front of him for the first time in almost three years, it was hard not to fixate on the details, on everything. 

The way his eyes flickered to him for a second, but held none of the warmth Minghao used to know, just a blank dull indifference, like Minghao had become just another person. Part of Minghao had expected this, but that doesn’t mean it still didn’t sting.

Mingyu finishes the rest of his preparations in silence. Right before he tosses the first of his chicken pieces in his frying basket, he says, “By the way, I told Hansol about you and Jun because you were such a grumpy cold bitch to him when he first started and he didn’t know why. Poor kid thought you hated him.”

The overwhelming sounds of oil sizzling stops Minghao from arguing back.

+++

Junhui keeps his gaze focused on his phone screen, pretending like he doesn’t notice Jisoo’s frequent head turns and eyes flickering to check on him every few seconds before returning to the street as he drives. He can practically taste Jisoo’s worry in the air.

“So Junnie,” Jisoo starts cautiously, “you’ve been rather quiet since the meeting.”

“I was quiet _during_ the meeting too. We both know you’re better at handling that stuff than I am.”

“Oh, of course,” Jisoo agrees with a light tone. “But you were quiet during dinner too. We even went to get you your favorite river snail noodles.”

“I wasn’t going to talk with my mouth full of river snail noodles, hyung.”

“Ah, but I suppose it also has _nothing_ to do with us running into Myungho outside Seungcheollie’s office?”

Junhui stares at the window. Jisoo always had a way of gently leading you to his point before he beat you over the head with it. It would’ve been one of Junhui’s favorite things about having Jisoo as a manager if he wasn’t also on the receiving end so many times.

“Oh, did we? I didn’t notice.”

Jisoo chuckles. “It’s cute how you think you can lie to me,” he says, tone more amused than scolding.

“Sorry, Shua-hyung,” Junhui replies reflexively, “I think I’m just jet-lagged.”

Jisoo lets out another chuckle, shaking his head. “So you’re going to apologize and then _keep_ lying to me? You slept the _two_ -hour flight back for that whole one-hour time difference.”

Junhui repeats another “Sorry, Shua-hyung,” in a distracted mumble this time and doesn’t say anything else. He puts his elbow up near the window and holds his cheek, watching the buildings pass by.

Once they get to a stop light, Jisoo takes the opportunity. “Junnie, you know you can talk to me. You know what I always say.”

“You’re a hyung first and a manager second,” Junhui recites, rolling his eyes but smiling anyway.

“Exactly, and we’re off the clock so guess which one I am now?”

Junhui laughs. “You’re a hyung.”

“So what should you be doing?”

“Talking to hyung.” Junhui covers his face with both hands, still laughing.

Jisoo smiles a bright, tight-lipped smile that reaches his eyes, satisfied as the light turns green and he accelerates, eyes back on the road. 

Of course Junhui saw Minghao there, of course it was on his mind the whole evening, and _of course_ Junhui knew Jisoo would ask about it. When Junhui left for China, Jisoo readily went with him as his manager. It was something Junhui was eternally grateful for, having a familiar face in a place that used to be Junhui’s home, that Jisoo dropped his life in Seoul to go with him. 

Jisoo was also supportive throughout his relationship with Minghao, and consequently after, so Junhui owes Jisoo a lot, by the very least this much. With a heavy sigh, he takes his hands off his face. “I don’t know what there is _to_ say though.”

“Hm, start with how you’re feeling and we’ll go from there.”

“I feel stupid,” Junhui immediately answers plainly. Jisoo just hums distractedly for him to keep going. “I mean, I knew he’d _be_ there but I didn’t know he’d like, _be there._ You know what I mean?”

“Surprisingly, I do.” Jisoo chuckles. “Did you not want to see him again?”

Junhui sighs towards his window. “I don’t know what I wanted.”

“So do you regret it?” 

Junhui turns his head over to look at him, quirking a curious brow.

“Coming back, I mean. To Seoul.”

Junhui leans forward in his seat and starts rubbing his shins. “Well I mean, I’ve kept you away from home for so long.”

Jisoo scoffs, still smiling. “If you _really_ mean that, you would’ve sent me to California.”

“Get me a contract deal there first then.”

“Point taken.”

Junhui chuckles again, turning back to stare out the window. “His eyes are still pretty,” he muses softly to himself.

Jisoo hums a curious noise, briefly glancing at him. “Myungho?”

Junhui doesn’t reply, his index finger coming up to idly trace shapes into the window before settling on a looping infinite pattern.

+++

“I saw him today, you know. Jun-hyung,” Minghao says sadly, head down looking at his food. “He lost some weight and he somehow looked totally different but also the same, you know? But he wouldn’t even look at me.”

Mingyu stretches his arm across the table to grab one of the small side dish bowls. “Oh god, I’m having deja vu flashbacks. Is it really three years ago again?” he says theatrically, grinning over at Minghao who doesn’t bother entertaining him with any sort of response. “Okay, Myungho, I say this with love, but are you _really_ surprised he doesn’t want to look at you?”

Minghao pokes his chicken bones lamely around his plate with his chopsticks. “I mean, I’m _disappointed._ ”

“I think Hansol sent me a meme about that once.” Mingyu chuckles. Minghao whips his head up to glare at him. “Not the point, sorry. But okay, I mean, look, what did you _expect_ to happen if you ever saw Junhwi again?”

“That’s the thing! I wasn’t _expecting_ to see him again! I was expecting him to go to Jinhua and _stay there,_ ” Minghao whines.

Mingyu hums, stirring his chopsticks around his rice bowl and doesn’t respond, likely waiting for Minghao to continue. But Minghao doesn’t want to continue, he doesn’t want to talk about Junhui coming back, he doesn’t want to think about how Junhui regarded him with basic indifference, he doesn’t want to do anything. 

The only sounds for the next few moments are chopsticks poking against the bowls and chewing noises. Minghao tries not to draw attention to the way he can see Mingyu looking pensive and checking on him every so often from the corner of his eye.

“So uh, did you wanna talk about it? Moon Junhwi.”

Minghao chuckles, the sound a little dry. “You? Want to listen to me talk about Moon Junhwi? Really?” he asks, looking at him incredulously. 

“I mean, if it’ll help.” Mingyu shrugs. “It’s not like it actually bothers me anymore, I was kidding earlier.”

Minghao lets out a heavy sigh, wiping his hand down his face. He wonders how bad it must be if it’s gotten to this point. “It’s fine, I’ll deal with it. Thanks though.”

“Anytime, buddy,” Mingyu replies before tilting his head back and shoving the rest of his rice in his mouth while Minghao watches, sneering at the display.

*****

_Minghao’s initial investment in hiring Moon Junhwi for his portfolio starts to pay off._

_A production agency reaches out to Minghao, saying they saw his portfolio and particularly liked his photos with Moon Junhwi. They ask if Minghao would be willing to do another one with him, which they would arrange so he wouldn’t have to worry about the payment. They plan to sell the photos to an ad agency and Minghao doesn’t mind._

_It’s only his third time photographing Junhwi and Minghao finds that he really likes it. It’s calming in a way that he doesn’t usually get when he takes photos of people. He’s not sure why, though. The shoot comes about four days after they sent the email, and this time, Minghao brings in a Bluetooth speaker and plays old English jazz songs in the studio._

_Junhwi chuckles when he steps in, once again making long strides to the photography area, wearing an oddly baggy white t-shirt under a basketball jersey and a headband over his forehead, smattering his bangs about. It looks good. It’s more distracting than Minghao would’ve thought._

_“I thought you needed quiet? This related to work too now?” Junhwi nods his chin towards the speaker._

_Minghao shrugs. “I like jazz songs.”_

_“All of a sudden?” Junhwi asks, playing with the hem of his clothes._

_“No, for a while. I just wanted to try something new today.”_

_Junhwi hums in acknowledgement. He then starts posing without instruction and Minghao starts clicking away. This time, Junhwi doesn’t try to talk during the middle of the shoot, just goes with Minghao’s direction calls. And this time, for some reason, it bothers Minghao._

_“I wanted to thank you for the last payment, by the way,” he says, putting his attention on his viewfinder and hoping his voice came out casually._

_“Is that a pose direction?” Junhwi asks._

_“N-no, I was just thanking you.”_

_“Don’t we usually save that stuff ‘till the end of the shoot? I thought you didn’t like talking.”_

_“Maybe you changed my mind. I told you before that you could talk.”_

_Junhwi shakes his head, face still neutral as he continues posing on his own. “No, you always said ‘no talking, please.’”_

_Minghao purses his lips, clicking away anyways. “I’m pretty sure I told you one time that you could talk and you charged me for it because you thought it was a pose.”_

_“Well, my voice is a part of me and I’m expensive.”_

_Minghao doesn’t deny it. “Are you going to charge me for this conversation?”_

_Junhwi pops the shoulders of his jersey. “I’m thinking about it,” he says, tone noncommittal._

_When they finish this shoot, Junhwi still bows and runs off to shake the hands of all the crew members excitedly before going up to Minghao._

_“So did you buy yourself something nice?” he asks, grinning._

_Minghao pauses and blinks while he processes what Junhwi’s referring to. He still isn’t used to how serious Junhwi can be during shoots but then turns into an overexcited child once it’s over._

_“I uh, got a new heater for my apartment,” he says, trying to sound nonchalant despite how lame that must sound to a model like Moon Junhwi. “Not that I don’t appreciate it, but can I ask why you did that?”_

_Junhwi shrugs, taking the water bottle Jisoo passes to him before the manager disappears to talk to the makeup and styling staff. “I like your work. I’m going to book you more often, hope you don’t mind. I already talked to my agency and they gave me the thumbs up to book you as much as I like. Consider it a downpayment.”_

_Minghao could swear Junhwi tried to wink at the end of that. He wants to giggle at how surprisingly bad the model is at it but Minghao doesn’t want to appear disrespectful. Or ungrateful._

_“Thank you very much. I look forward to working with you, please take care of me,” he recites very formally, bowing._

_When Minghao stands back up, Junhwi’s smiling at him and waving a dismissive hand around. “It’s no problem, Myungho-yah, no need to be so formal.” He pauses, face suddenly serious. “I can call you that now, right? If we’re going to be working together more?”_

_Minghao can appreciate that it actually sounds like Junhwi’s asking for permission instead of deciding for himself and just asking for show. But he doesn’t feel he’s in a position to refuse either way so he nods._

_“Great!” Junhwi says a little too happily, clapping his hands together, his water bottle somehow mysteriously already empty and left to crinkle miserably on the table. “So, Myungho-yah, I spoke to Hyejin and she appreciates your apology.”_

_Minghao blinks rapidly and shakes his head just as fast, trying to keep up after Junhwi switched to informal language in almost an instant. “Hyejin…?” he stalls. He knows who Junhwi’s talking about ever since he mentioned her last time, but he still doesn’t know who she is._

_“The model? Got yelled at and ran out crying?”_

_“No, I know who you mean but uh,” Minghao drawls on the note, “what’s her family name?”_

_Junhwi looks dramatically offended. “You don’t know her?”_

_“Ah, it’s just, there are three Hyejins that do modeling so…” he says, hoping that will somehow save him and not make him look careless._

_“Oh, yes, of course,” Junhwi says, clapping his hands together again like he just remembered something. “But Ahn Hyejin is the only one with a pet allergy. She got nervous and cried because of that. Do you think someone had a pet in the building?”_

_“As in, brought their pet on set? Not that I remember,” Minghao answers flatly. “Wait, when did she get yelled at?”_

_Junhwi purses his lips and shrugs. “Maybe someone was shouting degrees for her to turn her body at.”_

_Minghao giggles, “I only did that with you.” He finds himself taking a light swipe at Junhui’s arm before realizing they_ just _switched to informal language. Were they close enough to be doing this yet?_

_“Ah, so I’m special,” Junhwi muses to himself with another smirk. “Then I have no idea what it could be, I’ll ask her when I see her again.” He gathers his empty water bottle as Jisoo comes to collect him, slowly leading him away and mumbling about another schedule._

_“If you could,” Minghao says, getting a little curious. “I look forward to our next shoot, Junhwi-ssi.”_

_“Ah,” Junhwi whines, “if I call you Myungho-yah, you can just call me Jun-hyung, right? I had Shua-hyung do a check, I’m older than you!” he calls before leaving the room._

_+++_

_Minghao searches Ahn Hyejin’s name when he gets home, trying to match a name to a face since he figures that’s the only way he’ll remember._

_There are a couple of shots of her that are taken from odd angles, some whatever-quality stills from her variety show appearances, and then some airport shots where her face is covered by sunglasses, attached to several articles decrying her clothing choices. When he finally finds a clear shot of her face, he purses his lips._

_She does seem familiar and he can’t quite pinpoint in his mind where he’s seen her before, and he can’t recall having seen her cry at a shoot. He_ is _able to verify her allergy though, listed on the website._

_“Ahn Hyejin is allergic to pets,” Minghao says, once again over dinner with his roommate._

_“And?” Mingyu grumbles back, tossing his strip of meat onto his rice bowl a little more aggressively than necessary. “What am I supposed to do about that, Myungho?”_

_Minghao shrugs. “Junhwi says she’s the model that cried, but it was because of a pet allergy.”_

_“That sucks for her,” Mingyu replies seriously, tossing the clump of rice with the meat strip into his mouth. “Pets are great. We should get a dog.”_

_“Junhwi made it sound like_ I _made her cry,” Minghao muses, whining a little._

_“Oh my god,” Mingyu grumbles to himself again. “You do this every time you get back from a shoot with him.”_

_“It’s just I would’ve felt bad if I really made a model cry, Mingyu!”_

_Mingyu rolls his eyes. “This is why it’s so easy for Moon Junhwi to mess with you, you’re so soft.” He pokes around his bowl for more meat. “Most photographers would have dropped it or ignored him by now.”_

_Minghao eyes him. “Are the photographers you work with like that?”_

_“I guess.” Mingyu shrugs. “I never tried to mess with them, though. I don’t need to.”_

_Minghao nods, eating for a bit before he asks, “Do you use informal language with your photographers?”_

_“Did Moon Junhwi do that with you?” Mingyu asks in return, rolling his eyes and sounding exasperated. Minghao nods. “I don’t. I have no reason to unless I’ve worked with them a ton. It doesn’t happen often since I usually get tossed from photographer to photographer.”_

_“You should talk to your manager about that.”_

_Mingyu starts looking over his shoulder suspiciously. “Shut_ up, _if you mention him, he just_ appears. _"_

_“Mingyu, please,” Minghao scoffs, “Seungkwannie isn’t some devil. It’s not like he’s Cho Jo.”_

_“Who?”_

_Minghao shakes his head quickly. “No one, never mind. It’s from an old saying I heard as a kid, probably doesn’t translate well.”_

_Mingyu’s phone starts buzzing on the table. When Mingyu peers over at it, he groans. “And it’s Seungkwannie. See what you did?”_

_“Seungkwannie’s a really good manager, though, why are you complaining?”_

_“Sometimes he books me for some_ weird _advertisements.”_

_Minghao shrugs. “Money is money.”_

_Mingyu sneers, wiping his hands on the closest towel and picking up his phone._

*****

“Hyung, do we need to book Mingyu-hyung for something?” Hansol asks, scrolling aggressively through his tablet.

Minghao side eyes him. “I don’t know, Hansol, it’s your job to go through the production notes, isn’t it? Is he listed there for today?” he responds with a high, amused lilt.

Hansol shakes his head. “No, I mean for like, a personal project.”

“Not that I know of,” Minghao replies, smiling. “Do _you_ need to hire Mingyu for a personal project?”

“I think so.”

“If you want photos to mess with for retouching purposes, I can send you some old files you can practice on instead.”

Hansol shakes his head again. “No, hyung, I need new ones. For uh, for the challenge.”

“And you can’t take scenery shots?”

Another shake of the head. “It’s better if there’s a subject. For like, skin correction practice and such.”

Minghao sighs, still smiling as he starts packing up. “You know you can just ask Mingyu directly, right? He won’t mind if it’s for a personal project, no need to go through Seungkwannie.”

Hansol gives yet another firm shake of the head. “No, I think I better book it through him.”

Minghao starts ravelling one of the wires back into a bundle. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were trying to book your way into a relationship, Hansol-ah,” he muses. When he registers what he said, Minghao pauses, his hands suddenly frozen. 

“Hyung?”

Minghao coughs and continues ravelling the wires. “Nothing.”

Hansol blankly stares at him for a few seconds and then points towards Minghao’s hips. Minghao looks down and just notices his phone going off in his pocket. 

“Hello Seungkwan-ah,” he says when he answers it, having had to drop his bundle. When he looks around, Hansol is making urgent facial expressions at him that Minghao waves off, turning away.

 _“Hi Myungho-hyung!”_ Seungkwan’s cheery voice returns. _“Normally I would text but I just got off the phone with your director and this seemed like something to call about.”_

“Oh, Seungcheol-hyung?”

_“No, no, the one above him.”_

“Oh.”

_“Yeah. So first, I’m going to need you to send over your schedule.”_

Minghao hums. “Uh, sure, I can have my assistant send that right over to you,” he says in a slightly louder tone than usual, turning back to Hansol and he watches the boy’s eyes widen. “Can I ask why you’d need my schedule though?”

Hansol nods enthusiastically, piecing together his instruction, and heads to the computer.

_“Ah, Director Park-nim wants to capitalize on the popularity Moon Junhwi got from his work in Shanghai and is requesting he do a shoot with Mingyu-hyung here.”_

“Here as in…?”

 _“Seoul, hyung. South Korea,”_ Seungkwan replies flatly.

Minghao sighs. “Yes, Kwannie, but again, why do you need _my_ schedule?”

_“You’re Moon Junhwi-ssi’s photographer, aren’t you?”_

“I’m the company photographer. I’m the photographer for all the models and employees here.”

Minghao can hear the eye roll from here. _“That’s the same as what I said. He’s back with the company, you’re still the company photographer. Therefore, you will still take his pictures, will you not?”_

“That hasn’t been discussed yet.”

_“We’re discussing it now.”_

“Who’s we? You’re not in this company?”

 _“No, but I have orders from Director Park Jungsoo-nim, who_ is _heading your company. Do you listen to me or not?”_

Minghao starts regretting not listening to all those horror stories Mingyu used to tell about Seungkwan. But he has to admit, the boy knows how to get results. “Why do you have orders from Seungcheol-hyung’s boss?”

 _“Because of the deal he wants to do with Mingyu-hyung to capitalize on Junhwi-ssi’s popularity. Hyung, please listen to me!”_ Minghao can picture Seungkwan’s pouting from here.

“Sorry, Kwan-ah. Would you like to speak to my assistant instead?” 

Hansol’s head whips away from the computer screen to look at Minghao, wide-eyed. Then he hears a ping over the line. _“Oh, that must be your schedule, thanks,”_ Seungkwan replies. _“And sure, put him on, maybe he’ll be easier to talk to.”_

Minghao walks over and passes his phone to Hansol, mouthing _‘don’t mess this up’_ before he goes back to his task of raveling wires. He watches Hansol nod a lot and mumble a couple variations of “yeah, okay,” scribbling some notes on the back of some old production schedules.

Hansol starts getting out of his seat, taking haltering steps while saying, “I’ll let him know,” and then he pauses before he gets to Minghao. “Thanks. But uh, Seungkwan-ssi, are you going to be coming to set that day too? …Oh right, yeah of course, I was just wondering. See you there!”

Minghao smiles, taking his phone back from Hansol’s offering hand. “I take it the call went well?”

Hansol nods. “For me, yes. For you, not so much. You have to take Junhwi-ssi’s pictures.”

“I gathered.”

“We uh, had a free slot in the schedule on Thursday so Mingyu-hyung and Junhwi-ssi will be here then.”

Minghao squints, looking at him in disbelief. “Did we really?”

“It was the earliest opening and Seungkwan-ssi was very insistent on booking this right away,” Hansol replies. “It’s an hour before lunch.”

Minghao presses his lips together in thought, knowing he’s not in a position to argue. He’ll just have to deal with it.

“Are you going to be okay?” Hansol asks again, more gentle than the last.

Minghao finishes setting up and forces a smile at him. “Yes, Hansol-ah, I’ll be fine. Work is work after all,” he decides, looking around for anything else he can busy his hands with before he gets curious and decides to ask, “What _exactly_ did Mingyu tell you anyways?”

Hansol shrugs, face impassive as ever. “Just that you and Junhwi-ssi used to date for a while and it was pretty serious. Then you guys broke up and Junhwi-ssi went to China.”

Minghao starts nodding, thankful that his best friend at least gave him the bare minimum amount of information necessary.

“And that Mingyu-hyung had to pull you out of some post-breakup episode and that’s why you were so grouchy when I started working for you,” Hansol finishes, nodding to himself.

“Did he really call it an episode?”

“He said he had to hide a lot of wine. And your cards so you couldn’t buy more wine. For months.”

“That _bastard._ ”

“Do you want me to do the shoot instead of you, hyung?” Hansol asks, changing the subject. 

Although Minghao is touched at the offer, he can’t determine if it’s because Hansol wants to see Seungkwan or because Hansol wants to help Minghao to avoid Junhui. Most likely the former option, but Minghao can’t deny seeing the value in the suggestion.

“Actually, that might be a good idea. Get you some experience,” he says, considering. “But I’m still going to the set to oversee you. If the order came from Seungcheol-hyung’s boss, it’s probably a big project and I can’t leave you alone. Do you mind sending an email to Jeonghan-hyung about it? And CC everyone involved?”

Hansol nods again in agreement. “Sure hyung, but are you sure you’re going to be okay?”

Minghao sighs. “Yes, Hansol-ah, work is work, remember?” he asks, continuing to put stuff away for a few moments while Hansol heads to the laptop, double-checks the schedule for the rest of the day and sorts out the notes he took during his call. “Hey uh, I’m sorry I was so rude to you when you started.”

Hansol looks up curiously, tucking the pen behind his ear. “No problem, hyung. I’ve seen Junhwi-ssi, I get it.”

Minghao tightens his lips together to prevent a laugh, not expecting that sort of answer in such a casual carefree tone. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he asks, trying to carry the laugh in his voice.

“Nothing, hyung. I’m just saying,” Hansol responds, nodding a few times to himself, “I’ve seen Junhwi-ssi’s face. And I’ve seen all the pictures you took of Junhwi-ssi on the servers, so like, _I get it._ ” He chuckles to himself. “But I appreciate the apology.”

Minghao pales, jaw falling open, slightly mortified before he turns away, busying himself with more things to put away.

+++

Hansol’s request to take over the shoot featuring Junhui and Mingyu is denied. The firm email Minghao got late last evening from Director Park Jungsoo himself states that it’s too big of a project to hand off to the photographer’s assistant. He appreciates the enthusiasm, and suggests other projects Hansol could do instead, citing that Minghao did such a good job photographing Junhui before, and he would rather dump the money into a sure thing.

On the day that Minghao is scheduled to do this shoot with Junhui and Mingyu, he makes sure he gets to the park location extra early. He starts looking around to gauge which lighting and angles would work best.

Once he’s figured out what he wants, he starts looking for Hansol, hoping the younger already saw the email and his text to come early just in case.

And on time, Hansol strolls up, wireless earbuds in place, jamming to himself as he flips through the production notes on the tablet. 

Minghao approaches, slinging his arm around his shoulder. “So you saw the email, right?”

Startled, Hansol stares at him wide-eyed before he takes out his earbuds. “Oh, the email, yeah. It’s okay, hyung, I’ll still help you with Junhwi-ssi if you want.”

Minghao asks Hansol to go in the spots he tested out for lighting purposes, considering the sunlight and starts marking ‘X’s with tape on the ground before they start setting up the reflectors and props, going by the absurdly lengthy production notes Seungkwan had sent over. 

Jisoo and Seungkwan soon arrive just as Minghao and Hansol are just about done setting up. Thankfully too, since Hansol gets distracted and stares in Seungkwan’s direction. Minghao scoffs, chuckling, before he drags Hansol to Jisoo. Hansol and Seungkwan have already met, multiple times, so that’s not a concern right now.

When Minghao approaches Jisoo, with Hansol in tow, the older boy beams, wrapping Minghao in a warm hug. “Myungho! Great to be working with you again,” he says as he lets go.

Minghao turns to Hansol. “Hansol-ah, this is Hong Jisoo. He’s uh….” He pauses, not sure with himself if it’s because he’s unsure of Jisoo’s position now or because he can’t bring himself to say Junhui’s name.

“I’m Moon Junhwi’s manager,” Jisoo finishes, smiling politely. “You can just call me Shua.”

“And this is my assistant, Chwe Hansol,” Minghao finishes, slightly embarrassed.

Jisoo grins at Minghao. “Oh, you got an _assistant_ since we last saw each other?” he says, impressed and nodding his head. He claps Minghao on the shoulder a few times. “Nice, we should get lunch sometime, catch up. You’re invited too, of course,” he adds, looking at Hansol.

“Y-yeah, we should,” Minghao says uneasily.

Hansol nods rhythmically, pushing his lips out a bit, seemingly just going with it. 

Jisoo smiles reassuringly and starts looking around. He suddenly calls Junhui’s name out and Minghao internally panics, following Jisoo’s line of sight. 

Aside from that brief encounter outside Seungcheol’s office, this is the first actual good look Minghao has of Junhui after almost three years. He watches Junhui’s face go from curious to relieved as he bounds over to them.

Junhui’s fresh from makeup and styling, his lightly dyed hair now combed back away from his forehead, light makeup and coral eyeshadow in place. The first outfit they gave him is a red turtleneck with a blazer and dress pants. Although the initial shock from seeing Junhui again has mostly worn off since seeing him outside Seungcheol’s office, Minghao still doesn’t know what to say, how to react.

“Junnie, this is Chwe Hansol, Myungho’s assistant, and of course, Myungho,” Jisoo says with a questionable lilt, smiling and gesturing with a face-up palm. 

Minghao holds his breath as Junhui eyes both of them with an unreadable expression. He gives Hansol a polite smile before turning to Minghao.

“Ah, of course, Myungho-ssi,” Junhui repeats in a tone dipping into contempt, locking eyes with him in a way that Minghao is terrified to realize he doesn’t quite know how to read anymore. 

Minghao really doesn’t know what he expected and he is uncomfortably shocked when Junhui performs a ninety-degree bow and says, “I’m Moon Junhwi, I look forward to working with you, please take care of me,” with strong formality. It’s when Junhui stands upright that Minghao realizes that the bow was purely for Hansol’s benefit as Junhui once again locks eyes with him and adds, “You will, right?” 

It isn’t that his tone carries anything particular in it, and it probably wouldn’t mean much of anything to anyone else, but it still lets Minghao know that Junhui isn’t as indifferent to him as he first thought, the words starting to wrap around his head and imprint into his brain. _‘You will, right? Not like last time?’ ‘You’ll take care of me, right? Like how we were supposed to?’_

Minghao starts to think he would have preferred indifference, he could have worked with indifference. If Junhui had regarded him as a stranger or just another person, he could at least entertain the hope that maybe they could work their way into something resembling friends again. 

But this Junhui isn’t one that forgot or one that’s detached, and Minghao supposes it would be foolish to think that he would. This Junhui is one that still actively blames Minghao for the end of their relationship. 

This is a Junhui that hates him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * the Cho Jo thing that Minghao mentions is based on an old Chinese idiom similar to "speak of the devil and he appears" except it refers to a historical Chinese warlord and goes "speak of Cáo Cāo and Cáo Cāo arrives" where Cho Jo is the closest Korean translation of Cáo Cāo's name I could find (please feel free to correct me)
> 
> side note: Minghao and Seungkwan saying two different names for where Junhui went is intentional + everyone using Junhao's Korean names and honorifics is part of the plot  
> but above all, please stay safe everyone


	2. The place I ran away from, the center of my memories with you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I re-titled this because I'm indecisive and weak  
> hello thank you so much to everyone reading / enjoying so far and letting me indulge in my silly little story like this. I'm having fun so I greatly appreciate it <3  
> we start head-hopping here but all flashbacks are still exclusively Minghao POV. I changed the formatting a bit to make it easier to recognize when it's a flashback scene  
> Text in [square brackets] are in Mandarin. I also think this is the last chapter I say 'cheque'
> 
> Chapter title is from The Eye by Infinite

“I’m Moon Junhwi, I look forward to working with you, please take care of me. You will, right?”

It’s a strange, messy feeling, Minghao realizes, how after all the time and distance between them, his heart still easily falls back in step with Junhui, how it still tries to reach out to him, bring him back into its gravity. 

It makes no sense, of course, with how coldly Junhui is looking at him now, and it shouldn’t have been that easy, but Minghao supposes he never had any reason or rationale when it came to Junhui. 

Junhui may have been the one who left the country, but when Minghao left him first all those years ago, his entire world shifted, fell off its axis, left him struggling to spin pathetically in the dirt. Of course, Minghao tried to force a new one, find a way to keep spinning, but it was never quite the same because he knew that part of his world was still irrevocably chained to Junhui.

But Minghao still has to put on a face, appear as impassive and unaffected to Junhui’s presence as Junhui is to his, and ask one thing. 

“Why,” he stammers, berating himself for his ineloquence, “why are you back here?”

Junhui briefly looks at Jisoo, confused, before he turns back to Minghao. “I’m here for a shoot. Were you not informed?”

Minghao freezes, throat dry. 

Thankfully, sweet, precious, wonderful Hansol claps a hand to Minghao’s back. “He was. Actually, I’ll be helping with most of the shoot for today. If you could please follow me, Junhwi-ssi,” he says, leading Junhui over to the first photo area they’d previously marked with an X in tape.

Minghao lets out a breath as they walk away and he catches Jisoo’s eye. 

Jisoo’s arms are crossed over each other, brows raised, and has a tight-lipped smirk that Minghao doesn’t quite like. “Well, that could’ve gone better,” he says, watching. “Not really what you were expecting, huh?”

Minghao frowns. Saying that he never expected to see Junhui —and by extension, Jisoo— ever again seems rudely out of place, no matter how true. 

In truth, Minghao liked Jisoo perfectly fine, he was trustworthy, reliable, supportive, loyal; he can see why Junhui chose him as his manager. Minghao generally got along well with him. But sometimes Jisoo knew a bit _too_ much and he would dangle it over your head just to watch you struggle to reach it. 

Then again, this is someone that spent nearly three years in Jinhua with Junhui while Minghao didn’t.

“It wasn’t,” Minghao admits in a shaky exhale. “Did uh, did Jun-hyung say why he came back to Seoul?”

Jisoo’s attention catches, intrigued, and he lifts his shoulders slightly. “Not to me.” He pauses and his eyes search Minghao’s face. “Wouldn’t you know something like that?” 

His voice is gentle, worried even, but it still rings in Minghao’s ear as a bitter reminder of what used to be. Reading Junhui was second nature to Minghao, unraveling his thoughts, deciphering his rhythm, all of it. But when Junhui looked at him earlier, asked if Minghao was actually going to take care of him this time and Minghao saw something he couldn’t recognize, he figures he’s lost that. 

His heart hurts, that maybe it’s not something he can just pick back up again. The time and the distance was too much this time, no matter how much he wished it wasn’t.

“I’m not sure anymore,” he says softly, looking over as Jisoo pouts a little, turning away before Minghao calls him back. “Wait — so uh, how much did he tell you? About the breakup?”

Jisoo lightly tosses his head side to side, pursing his lips. “Hm, about everything,” he answers calmly. Minghao gulps again, mind beginning to panic. “But it doesn’t affect the relationship _I_ have with you, so let’s not do that, shall we?”

“Yeah, okay,” Minghao agrees in another nervous exhale, spotting Mingyu coming out from hair and makeup from over Jisoo’s shoulder. “Excuse me, please,” he says in a slightly out-of-breath huff before moving past him and towards Mingyu’s direction.

“Myungho!” Jisoo calls after him, causing Minghao to turn back around to face him. “I meant what I said. You don’t have to talk to me like we’re strangers just because I’m Junnie’s manager. You and I were friends too, that hasn’t changed.”

Minghao breathes out a sigh of relief. “Thanks, Shua-hyung. Will do.” He turns and jogs up to Mingyu, stopping when his friend approaches Junhui at the photography area. 

As he watches Mingyu and Junhui exchange small bows and smiles, Minghao gets reminded of the things he used to hope for. They were foolish hopes that he let himself indulge in from time to time, ones that he knew would never really come true. Most of them involved Junhui: that they’d never broken up, that Junhui would somehow forgive him, that they could still keep each other in their lives. 

But this is the path he chose and this is what Minghao has to deal with now. Minghao never expected any of his foolish little hopes to come true, and he certainly doesn’t expect the chains around his world to still be rattling, disturbed by small butterflies in his gut when he sees Junhui nod towards Hansol.

+++

Junhui looks down at his shoes, making sure he’s properly on the ‘X’ that Hansol led him to. He shields his eyes from the sun with his hands as he squints back up at the boy. “Hansol-ssi, is this okay?”

Hansol hums and signals Junhui to scooch over a few steps. Junhui obliges.

“So Hansol-ssi, how long have you been working for Myungho-ssi?” he asks conversationally, lowering his hand.

“Hm, about two years?” Hansol replies, nodding to himself and seeming to settle that that’s correct.

“He started a bit after you left, actually.”

Junhui looks over and sees Mingyu approaching him. Reflexively, he bows his head a little. “Mingyu-ssi. I hope this doesn’t sound weird but I feel like I kind of know you already.”

Mingyu chuckles. “I could say the same thing about you.”

Hansol lowers the camera to stare at them. “Have you two not met before?” he asks in disbelief.

“Not formally,” Junhui quickly interjects before turning and smiling politely at Mingyu.

Hansol’s lips dip into a pensive frown, eyes narrowing and darting around suspiciously before turning his head to where he last saw Minghao, and then looks back at the two models. “Huh.”

Mingyu shrugs. “It happens.”

It’s a vague almost-nothing answer and Junhui has nothing to add to it, but it seems to satisfy Hansol, at least for now, as he continues clicking away at the camera. 

From Hansol’s reaction and the way Mingyu just sends an apologetic grin, it doesn’t seem unreasonable for Junhui to guess that Hansol is at least somewhat aware of his relationship with Minghao and he decides to confirm.

“He knows, doesn’t he?” he quietly asks Mingyu, nodding his chin in Hansol’s direction. He doesn’t feel the need to clarify, they both know what the elephant in the room is, they both know what Junhui’s referring to. There’s no way Mingyu doesn’t.

Mingyu looks where Junhui’s nodding at, watching as Minghao eventually walks up behind Hansol, inspects the viewfinder for a few seconds and takes over the shoot after some hurried exchanges.

“Yeah,” is Mingyu’s simple, quick reply, nodding. 

Junhui spots Minghao signal that they’re about to get started and turns to look at Mingyu, making sure that he’s also ready, and receives a friendly smile in return.

It was a bit of an odd feeling, if Junhui was being honest. Everything he knew about Kim Mingyu came from things he’d heard from Minghao while they were dating. They were basic things like Mingyu was his best friend, Mingyu was his roommate, Mingyu also worked as a model, Mingyu liked cooking, Mingyu had a bit of a temper, and most importantly, Mingyu really did not like Junhui.

They weren’t lying when they told Hansol they had never actually met before today.

Junhui had no strong feelings one way or the other about Mingyu. He just vividly remembers Minghao adamantly insisting that Mingyu was quite vocal in how much he disliked Junhui, no matter what Minghao said to him. 

At the time, it mainly bothered Junhui because of how upset Minghao was about it, when he expressed strong frustration that he couldn’t introduce his best friend and his boyfriend since they wouldn’t get along. So Minghao never did and Junhui never pressed it.

But seeing him and working with him now, Mingyu is quite friendly and outgoing, laughing a lot with him and suggesting poses that would normally be better suited for close friends. Junhui starts thinking that either Mingyu is super professional or that everything Minghao had previously told him about Mingyu was painted unnecessarily bitter.

Junhui doesn’t think Minghao particularly lied about Mingyu, he just thinks it doesn’t make sense now.

During the breaks, Junhui doesn’t expect much as he and Mingyu go to check some of the photos. Mingyu enthusiastically approves them, pointing at certain ones and specifically complimenting Junhui’s eyes, to his surprise. He can only respond with a “thanks,” and finds something about Mingyu to compliment. He picks Mingyu’s smile.

While walking to the next shoot location, marked with another tape ‘X’ according to Hansol, Mingyu walks up alongside Junhui and slings his arm around his shoulders. 

“So, Junhwi-ssi,” he starts, voice carrying nothing, “I was wondering….”

Junhui could swear his heart rate skyrocketed in that moment, panicking and dreading something related to the fact that Mingyu was essentially talking to his best friend’s ex-boyfriend. The ex-boyfriend that Mingyu supposedly hated and best friend that Mingyu had to look after once Junhui had left. Junhui’s heart softens and he nods at Mingyu to keep going.

“I’m kind of working on something right now and I wanted to know if you knew any video editors you could refer me to?”

Of all the things Junhui was expecting Mingyu to ask, he has to admit, that was not one of them. “Oh, I—”

“I know you’ve been out of the country for a while, but I figured you might still know somebody. Just in case, you know?” Mingyu rushes out, giving a big earnest smile at the end.

Junhui recovers from his shock, nodding. “Yeah, sure. My best friend is one, actually. I can give you his card later if you want?”

“Ah, thanks, you’re a lifesaver,” Mingyu replies, grinning. “You won’t believe how many I’ve run into that were kind of shady, you know?”

Junhui does not actually know but he smiles and gives a polite nod anyways. 

Throughout the rest of the shoot, Junhui tries not to notice how much more comfortable and confident Minghao has gotten with his directing, how he stops occasionally to teach Hansol something, how very much in his element Minghao is. It looks good on him. 

Once that thought hits, Junhui tries not to notice Minghao at all.

When the shoot’s all done, Junhui calls Jisoo over, quickly glancing over at Minghao talking in more hurried exchanges with Hansol. Minghao seems to sense this and looks over at him, which Junhui replies with a snide squished, close-eyed smile until Minghao looks away.

Mingyu gives Junhui a look that tells him he’ll pretend he didn’t see anything. 

“Shua-hyung, do you have Wonwoo’s card on you? Mingyu-ssi is looking for a video editor,” Junhui says, watching Jisoo’s expression.

He starts chuckling, patting his pockets down. “No, Junnie, I don’t have Wonwoo’s card on me. I don’t carry his around, I only carry mine.”

Junhui stares at Jisoo, who is still chuckling but sends him a facial expression that tells Junhui he’s serious and Junhui realizes the ridiculousness of his thought process. “Oh, right.” He turns to Mingyu. “Sorry about that, I’ll uh, see if I can just have him email your manager when I get back.”

Mingyu pauses and thinks this over for a bit before he nods his head. “Ah, sure, that’d be great, thanks.” He cautiously looks around over his shoulders —which Junhui curiously mirrors— before slipping a card in Junhui’s hand. 

“Boo Seungkwan?” Junhui asks, reading it out curiously.

Mingyu’s eyes widen. “Ah, so as much as possible, try not to say his name too much.”

Junhui looks at Jisoo to see if he knows what that’s supposed to mean. Jisoo gives an equally confused shrug. 

“It’s just that—”

“Mingyu-hyung, we gotta go,” a new face says as he rushes up beside Mingyu, clutching onto his elbow while sipping at an iced coffee straw. “Myungho-hyung’s assistant is asking me too many questions and I don’t know how to answer them all so I said you had another schedule right now. But then he also keeps asking about your schedule later so he can book you for stuff I guess, but I’m pretty sure Myungho-hyung was saying they don’t _actually_ have to book you. I think you need to talk with him.”

Mingyu sighs, hand gesturing between this whirlwind of a new person and Junhui. “My manager, Boo Seungkwan. Meet Moon Junhwi.”

The new face, Seungkwan, seems to brighten up, eyes sparkling. “Ah, Moon Junhwi,” he exclaims, bowing quickly, “I really liked your work in Shanghai, you were really, really great.” He ends with a nervous chuckle to himself.

Junhui quickly looks to Jisoo for another confirmation before he giggles nervously. “Oh wow, they captioned them all? Thank you so much, I’m honored.” He quickly bows in return.

“So I gave Junhwi-ssi your card so he can email you about a video editor he knows,” Mingyu says, addressing Seungkwan, who pouts. “I was looking for one, remember?”

Seungkwan pushes on Mingyu’s elbow to face him. “And you couldn’t have given your own contact info?”

“Well, I—”

“Hyung, why do you keep using me like that?” 

“But your card is the one I have on hand so….”

“So do you want me to get you your own cards to give out? I’m not your buffer just because you’re too lazy to type out your info, hyung.”

“You’re my manager though. Isn’t being a buffer kind of part of the job?”

Seungkwan stomps a foot. “Not for personal projects!” 

Junhui leans forward, holding Seungkwan’s business card up. “Sorry, do you not want me to have this or…?”

Seungkwan’s petulant expression melts as he looks at the card in Junhui’s hand, frowns when he looks at Mingyu, before looking at Junhui once again. “Oh, no, Junhwi-ssi, it’s fine, please keep it for business purposes,” he replies sweetly, leaning his head on Mingyu’s shoulder. 

Junhui chuckles and passes the card to Jisoo, noting how Seungkwan slaps Mingyu’s side with the back of his hand after hearing something that sounds like a whisper of ‘kiss-ass’. 

“So I’ll talk to my friend for you,” Junhui says to Mingyu, “and email you.” He looks at Seungkwan.

They both nod and Seungkwan loops his arm around Mingyu’s, sipping on his straw as he leads the taller boy away.

“Oh, Mingyu-ssi!” Junhui calls before they get too far. The pair stop and, for some reason, both turn their heads towards Junhui. “Thanks for taking care of Myungho.”

 _‘For me, after I left, while I was gone, when I couldn’t,’_ they’re all at the tip of his tongue but Junhui can’t bring himself to say any of them. 

It was the first direct verbal acknowledgement of their supposed connection since they were in the same space as each other. Mingyu didn’t know it, but it was also the closest Junhui’s gotten to verbally acknowledging his relationship with Minghao in a long while. For some strange reason, he thinks Mingyu might be able to pick that out.

Mingyu seems to take this in before he nods, smiling. He starts to lead Seungkwan away, ignoring his manager’s scandalized expression. 

“They're cute,” Junhui comments to Jisoo after the other pair have disappeared. “Think we’ll ever be like that?”

Jisoo regards him dryly. “You think that’s what you want?”

Junhui gives a nonchalant shrug, eyes pleading.

“Absolutely not,” Jisoo replies, laughing. “But speaking of defying orders, I told Myungho and his assistant that we’d have lunch with them one day soon, to catch up.”

Junhui eyes him warily. “Somewhere deep, _deep_ inside your heart, you really do hate me, don’t you?” His fingers come up and idly play with his own naked earlobe.

Jisoo’s eyes watch Junhui’s hand before he gives another dry look. “I thought you said that you were over it?”

Junhui’s hand shoots down. “I _am_ over it.”

“Then we’re going to lunch, you big baby,” Jisoo reprimands lightly. “Besides, it’s polite, we haven’t seen him in a while and we’ve never met the assistant before.”

Junhui inhales deeply through his nose. “Okay, but I’m not paying.”

Jisoo rolls his eyes, still smiling. “Sure, whatever, I’m paying.”

*****

_Jisoo books Minghao for a fourth photoshoot with Junhwi a few days later, this time for a shoe advertisement._

_“You get a lot of ad requests, hyung,” Minghao says with slight fascination, setting up his tripod._

_After the model’s request to call him ‘hyung’, Minghao had grabbed onto it, calling him hyung at any chance he could. It may have been a bit of a desperate attempt to milk the idea that they were close and connected for all it was worth._

_“Well, aren’t you lucky, because I’m booking you for each of them,” Junhwi replies with a grin, leaning an elbow on Minghao’s shoulder. “I’ll ask Shua-hyung to send you the schedule later today.”_

_“I’m still very grateful,” Minghao says, hoping it doesn’t sound too weirdly needy._

_“Yah,” Junhwi exclaims, lightly slapping at Minghao’s arm, “I thought I told you to stop using formal language with me, kid.”_

_Minghao pulls his lips in a tight line, eyes glancing up to see Jisoo chuckling. “How much older are you than me anyways?” he asks with a slight sneer._

_“Does it matter? Hyung is hyung to you,” Junhwi retorts, nose in the air._

_Minghao looks at Jisoo again; he’s holding up a single finger and mouthing ‘one year’._

_“Shua-hyung, stop selling me out to Myungho! Shua-hyung is one year older than me so feel free to call him hyung too.”_

_Jisoo gives a chuckle and small shrug that he doesn’t too much care what Minghao chooses to call him._

_“But on his business card, it says Jisoo, why do you call him Shua-hyung?” Minghao asks._

_“Jisoo is my Korean name but I was born in L.A and my English name is Joshua. I’m more used to people calling me that over Jisoo, but no one wants to say all those syllables so…”_

_“Just Shua-hyung!” Junhwi says cheerfully, pumping an arm up._

_Minghao giggles. “I’m just about done setting up here, hyung, so if you could start getting ready,” he says, making some final adjustments._

_Junhwi nods and bounds over to the photography area where some makeup and styling staff rush over to do some small fixes to Junhwi’s look._

_This shoot goes particularly well, Minghao always works better when there’s a clear theme in mind. Junhwi still doesn’t speak much throughout the shoot, just follows Minghao’s directions and overall, moves very smoothly. Junhwi is still somehow able to capture everything Minghao wants without him saying much. Minghao starts to wonder if they’ve just started developing good chemistry with each other and he wants to hold onto that thought._

_And once again, when Minghao is packing up, Junhwi comes up to him after greeting the staff, grinning. “So, Myungho-yah, I spoke to Hyejin again.”_

_“Oh, did you?” Minghao asks, voice distracted and not looking at him, tucking his lighting equipment babies in. “What did she say?”_

_“Are you jealous?” Minghao can hear the grin in Junhwi’s voice. He looks up and gives Junhwi an exasperated look to get to the point. “Right, so she said the yelling that day was because of the staff members. Apparently her manager got into an altercation with them after she found out about there being a pet on set when they specifically said Hyejin was allergic. She tried to defend the staff by saying they didn’t know so she doesn’t blame anyone. She felt nervous because she felt bad about costing the shoot and the allergies made her tear up so she ran out.”_

_Minghao takes all this in, squinting. “I don’t remember there being a pet on set.”_

_Junhwi shrugs. “Her allergy might be strong enough that it still triggers if someone just has pet fur on them.”_

_Minghao frowns. “I thought you said_ she _got yelled at?”_

_“Maybe the manager yelled at her by mistake when she tried to defend the staff?” Junhwi shrugs again. “Maybe I embellished the story to have an excuse to talk to you when we met,” he says mischievously, a wide grin spreading on his lips._

_Minghao just feels his eyes flutter, blinking rapidly to try to process this, a recurring thing when it comes to Junhwi, it seems. “Is Ahn Hyejin really a model you talk to?”_

_“For your information, Myungho, yes she is! She’s drinking buddies with my boss. And she actually is allergic to pets.”_

_“I — you…” Minghao sputters, “this whole time, you made me think_ I _yelled at her and made her cry!”_

_Junhwi laughs, folding forward and putting a hand on Minghao’s shoulder to balance himself. “But I kept telling you it wasn’t you!” He keeps laughing, hand now tapping Minghao’s shoulder and Minghao tightens his lips together, looking down, embarrassed. “Besides, wouldn’t you have remembered if you did something like that to someone?”_

_“So Mingyu was right,” Minghao sighs in defeat, “you were just messing with me.”_

_“Mingyu?” Junhwi asks when he recovers, curious._

_Minghao nods. “Yeah, Kim Mingyu, my roommate. He’s also a model. He said he heard you always mess with photographers new to you by telling them you heard they did something outrageous to a previous model to see how they handle it.”_

_Junhwi beams. “And you were great. Very pure, I appreciate that.”_

_Minghao’s fingers go up to fiddle with the tip of his ear, hoping it’s not as red as he thinks it is. “Why do you do that anyways?”_

_“It’s mostly a test to gauge their personalities, see if they argue or say it doesn’t matter. Or just to see if I can get along with them,” Junhwi replies, nodding and smiling. “Sorry to do that to you. But the good news is you passed amazingly. Although I technically never said I thought_ you _did it, you really tried to fix it and apologize anyways. That’s when I felt I could trust you. You have a good heart.”_

_Now Minghao feels the heat in his ears. “Is that why you wanted to keep booking me?”_

_“Very much so,” Junhwi replies, smiling. His own hand moves to lightly brush some of Minghao’s hair away from his other ear, hovering over it as if he wasn’t sure he was allowed to touch it. “That, and I thought your way of directing me by telling me the degrees to turn my body was the cutest thing.”_

_“I was doing that to mess with you,” Minghao admits, head tilted downward._

_Junhwi chuckles. “So we’re even then,” he says in a low amused tone, and Minghao thinks his voice sounds particularly fond. Junhwi’s fingers_ just graze _the tip of Minghao’s ear as he retracts his hand. “I still did well with those anyways, don’t even deny it.” His voice has returned to the cocky, cheeky tone he had before and Minghao doesn’t know why he feels a little disappointed._

_He shakes his head. “I would never, you did better than I expected,” he admits. “Were you a dancer?” Minghao guesses this as the top explanation he could think of for someone being that attuned to their body to be able to control it to specific degrees._

_Junhwi’s head quirks to the side again, smirk returning, but he gets approached by Jisoo._

_“I’m so sorry to interrupt, Junnie, but you have a meeting in a few minutes and we have to go.” He turns to Minghao. “Myungho-ssi, I’ll send you over the schedule for Junhwi’s remaining ad shoots by 18:00 tonight. If I forget, please feel free to text me.”_

_“Sure, hyung,” he exhales with an uneasy smile._

_Jisoo’s lips break into a smile. He does a small bow of the head before leading Junhwi out._

_+++_

_“Mingyu, you were right,” Minghao groans as soon as Mingyu puts some food in front of him. “Junhwi was just messing with me, I didn’t make any model, specifically Ahn Hyejin, cry.”_

_Mingyu theatrically rolls his eyes. “I could have told you that. Oh wait,_ I did.”

_Minghao sighs, poking at his noodles lamely with his chopsticks._

_“Why are you so sad? Isn’t it a good thing that you didn’t make a model cry by yelling at her?” Mingyu asks, one side of his lips upturned in disgust._

_“Yeah, I mean, that’s great. It’s just…” he trails off, “I feel so used. Like Junhwi was just toying with me. Well, like, he told me why he did it, but still.”_

_Mingyu rolls his eyes. “I told you, Moon Junhwi just likes messing with people.”_

_Minghao pouts for a bit before he starts eating. “I guess. It’s not like I didn’t mess with him back though,” he says around a hard-boiled egg yolk._

_Mingyu sneers, reaching over to grab a towel and dab around Minghao’s mouth. “You’re disgusting.”_

*****

After finishing the photoshoot with Junhui and Mingyu, Minghao prays that there aren’t any concerns that would cause him to have to somehow redo this particular shoot. He goes to his work desk, alone, and loads the photos from his card reader. 

About a month after hiring Hansol, the duo had gotten located to a small studio room on the eighth floor that housed their desks of computers for editing, a printer in the corner and a large cabinet for their various equipment. Hansol’s desk was facing a wall to Minghao’s right, which meant the younger would wheel his chair over a lot and talk right next to Minghao’s shoulder. It was amusing most times but also helped that they could see each other’s screens without moving too much. 

Going through new pictures of Junhui again was a surreal feeling. 

Sure, Minghao already had hundreds of photos of Junhui, but they were all from long ago, taken at a time when they were just idiots in love and still belonged to each other. Minghao tells himself he had long since come to terms with those photos, even if he hadn’t looked at them in a while.

These are new, fresh, taken now when Minghao is essentially one of the last people Junhui wants to see. If Minghao scrolls fast enough past the photos including Mingyu, maybe he can pretend he’s still back at that time, let himself believe that all his little hopes actually came true.

But it doesn't work.

Maybe other people wouldn’t be able to tell, but Minghao knows; in these photos, Junhui looks at the camera a little differently, the fondness is forced, dry, empty, and Minghao wonders if it’s because Junhui’s directing those at him behind the camera. It's a bitter pill Minghao has to swallow. 

He puts the SD card back in its case, scribbles a note that he’s handing over responsibility of editing the photos in this particular photoshoot, and slaps both on Hansol’s desk. 

As Minghao wheels back to his own desk, Hansol pings him that their last schedule for the day is down at the musical theatre department. Apparently they were to take promotional photos for the banners, posters and other ads the company wanted. Hansol is already down there setting up so Minghao rushes to one of the elevators to head down. 

When the elevator dings and the doors slide open, Minghao thinks his heart stops and sinks deep into his gut. 

Leaning against the back of the elevator wall is Junhui, the man who is now essentially the permanent tenant of Minghao’s mind, the one he can’t seem to escape. His eyes are glued to his phone as usual, being cradled by both hands. Minghao looks around the elevator: there’s no Jisoo. 

Junhui looks up from his phone and breathes a chuckle through his nose, one side of his lips upturning in a smirk. “This one's going down. Are you coming in or catching another one?” he asks and Minghao rushes to get in the elevator before the doors close. 

Minghao eyes the panel of floor buttons and sees the button for the ground floor lit up. Minghao pushes the button for the second basement. Once he steps away from the panel, he lets out a breath and starts looking around, suddenly having nothing to do. 

The air feels heavy, chilly, filled with too much history and memories. He’s all too aware of Junhui standing behind him and settles for watching the arrow and floor indicators moving on the panel next to the door just to have something else to focus on. He doesn’t know what to say or if he should even say something. Maybe Junhui would prefer this tense deafening silence. 

“You weren’t expecting me to come back, huh?” Junhui’s voice suddenly asks, high and curious.

Minghao turns his head but doesn’t fully look back over his shoulder. From the corner of his eye he can see that Junhui’s shoved his phone in his pocket and has both hands clasped behind his back, head tilted upward. Minghao isn’t really sure if Junhui’s really expecting an answer.

“It’s okay, I could tell,” Junhui continues, leaning forward a bit. Minghao can’t tell if his voice sounds sad or something resembling mock comfort. “You thought I was going to disappear forever. That’s what you were hoping, right?” 

It’s true, of course, but probably not in the way Junhui thinks. Minghao doesn’t want to say it and give Junhui even more reason to spite him. Minghao turns back to watch the arrow indicators, noting they’re almost at the ground floor. 

“You should probably try to get used to it though, I’m going to be here for a while.” His tone sounds friendly enough but Minghao can feel a layer of something else underneath. 

Minghao clears his throat. “Why did you come back?”

“Hm? Who knows?” Junhui hums, coming up beside him with his long strides. “[Do you want me to say it was for you?]”

Minghao doesn’t answer but thinks his breath catches in his throat. 

The elevator dings, arrow indicators replaced with a G and the doors slide open. 

“Ah, right, of course not,” Junhui muses to himself as he takes his long strides out, hands still clasped behind him. Before he disappears completely, he turns back, tilting his head to the side to peek at Minghao still in the elevator. “See you around, _Myungho-ssi,_ ” he sing-songs. 

The doors slide closed and the elevator continues moving downwards. Minghao lets out a long breath, feeling his heart threaten to jump out of his chest. He thinks if icicles suddenly crashed down around him, he wouldn’t be surprised. 

If he was unsure before, Minghao definitely knows now: Junhui absolutely wants nothing to do with him, Junhui was not interested in being friends, and they were probably far further than strangers.

+++

Hansol is just about finished setting up the camera and the lighting on the musical theatre set, looking around as some of them start shuffling in. Myungho isn’t here yet, which Hansol is starting to get worried about. 

“Ah, Hansol-ah!” 

He turns and sees one of the actors, Seokmin, coming up to him with a friendly smile.

“Hey, Seokminnie-hyung! You’re in the first group?” Hansol asks, grinning. Seokmin nods. “You ready to knock ‘em dead?” 

Seokmin beams a wide smile, almost laughing. “Ready as I’ll ever be. Make me look good, okay?”

Hansol gives a good-natured shrug. “Part of the job, right?”

Another of the musical actors passes by and Seokmin double-takes. “Oh wait, there’s one of my seniors who’s in the same photo group as me. Nam-sunbae!” 

The actor turns around, smiling when he sees Seokmin and approaches. He has dark hair tousled about and sharp eyes. “Yes, Seokmin-ah, what can I do for you?” he asks, putting a hand on Seokmin’s shoulder, the other offering a small finger heart.

“Nothing, I was just excited.” Seokmin replies with a large grin, bouncing up and down on his toes. “This is Woohyunnie-sunbae, he’s super cool, he helps me a lot.”

Hansol smiles. “Hi, I’m Hansol, I’m going to be helping with the photography today.”

Seokmin’s senior seems curious. “Oh? Isn’t there another photographer, Myung-something?”

“Oh, Myungho-hyung? Yeah, he’ll be here soon,” Hansol reassures, smiling and nodding.

“Ah, I had a message I was supposed to give him. Nothing much, just a friend said hi,” he comments, shrugging, and displays another finger heart. “Well, Hansol-ssi, make us look good, okay?”

“I’ll do my best.”

Seokmin’s senior actor floats off toward one of the sets and Hansol looks at Seokmin. “He’s…interesting.”

Seokmin waves it off. “Nah, sunbae’s always like that. Anyways, I’m going to go get ready.”

Hansol nods and watches Seokmin run off in the same direction as his senior. He starts getting the camera ready when Myungho finally approaches him.

“Oh good, hyung, you’re here!” Hansol exclaims. “I’m pretty much done setting up so we can get started. One of Seokmin-hyung’s sunbaes had a message for you so I guess you can go find him after— hyung?” He angles his head to look at Myungho’s face to check if he’s actually been listening; he looks distracted, a bit shaken. Hansol idly wonders if he’s seen a ghost. “Myungho-hyung? Are you okay?”

Myungho blinks his eyes a few times. “Yeah, um” —he clears his throat— “I just need some water. Anyways, Hansol-ah, how would you like to take over most of the shoot today?”

“Really? You sure?”

A nod. “Yeah, it’s not that big of a project that the director can’t get too mad. I’ll handle it if they come after you, you need the experience. You’ll do great.”

“Sure, hyung, if you say it’s alright.”

Myungho beams, patting his shoulder. “Okay, let’s get started then. I’ll still be here if you need help.”

Hansol nods and Myungho goes off to fetch a water bottle for himself from the corner. He’s smiling as he drinks, the other hand gesturing in encouragement so Hansol doesn’t press him.

*****

_At the fifth photoshoot Minghao has with Junhwi, Jisoo had booked Minghao at Junhwi’s request and informed him that this time, it was specifically for an interview Junhwi did and plans to sell the photos back to them so Minghao was free to mess with the theme as much as he wanted._

_It wasn’t part of the ad schedule that Jisoo sent over so the payment would come later._

_“[So how many more times am I going to have to book you and flirt with you before you finally ask me out?]” Junhwi asks, relaxed and floating about various casual poses._

_“[About three more,]” Minghao automatically replies, clicking away for a few seconds before he pauses, his mind only just registering the exchange. He moves away from his tripod and stands upright, staring at Junhwi. “Wait.”_

_“Problem?” the model asks coyly._

_“Excuse me?” Minghao asks in a loud sputter, blinking rapidly again._

_“Ah, Heechullie-hyung was right!” Junhwi says, excited. “Foreigners speaking Korean always ask ‘excuse me’ super politely when they get confused! I mean, I guessed that when we met but I wasn’t_ completely _sure.”_

_“I, wait — Did you speak Mandarin to me a few seconds ago?” Minghao asks, slightly stunned._

_Junhwi smirks, a small puff of a chuckle escaping through his nose. “[It’s really cute that that’s the thing you were paying attention to.]” He gestures at Minghao to get back behind his camera._

_Minghao does so, still slightly stunned but trying not to let it affect him too much. “[I didn’t know you spoke Mandarin,]” he grumbles._

_“[Looks like I’m the only one that did their research, Xiao Hao,]” Junhwi replies casually, leaning forward to give the camera a few coy looks._

_Minghao steals a quick glance at Jisoo for help, wondering if he also knows Mandarin or if he at least knows what’s going on, but the manager is busy talking on his phone for what Minghao guesses is Junhwi’s schedule._

_He grumbles, taking the camera off the tripod and goes on the floor, crouching because the low angles feel like they would go well with the coy approach Junhwi is going for and Junhwi’s grin gets wider._

_“[I can’t believe you had me calling you ‘Myungho’ when I could have been calling you ‘Minghao’ this whole time],” he continues, amused. “[It’s way cuter.]”_

_“[Most people don’t bother asking. Because, you know, we’re in Korea.]”_

_“[That’s true. Can I keep calling you Xiao Hao then? Or would you just prefer Minghao? HaoHao?]”_

_Minghao clears his throat to stop himself from coughing, clicking away with his shutter. “Is that really necessary, hyung?”_

_“[Not necessary, it’s just my personal preference to nickname people I like,]” Junhwi replies, holding a hand near his forehead to brush his bangs up. “[Do you mind?]” he asks seriously._

_Minghao ends up lying on his side for a better angle. “Turn your leg a bit, twenty-six degrees,” he says instinctively. “[I guess I’m okay with Xiao Hao,]” he admits, feeling embarrassment filling his face._

_“Interesting choice,” Junhwi muses to himself. “[My Chinese name is Wen Junhui, so feel free to do whatever you will with that. I’ll show you the characters later if you want.]”_

_Minghao nods again. He would’ve been able to guess that would be the translation of his name from Korean but of course, seeing the Chinese characters always helps. Junhui doesn’t speak the rest of the shoot, only occasionally asking ‘is this okay?’ regarding certain poses._

_This time, when Junhui reviews the shots, he makes sounds of awe and says, “ah, you’re so great at this, Xiao Hao,” a few times, to Minghao’s slight embarrassment._

_After making his usual rounds greeting the styling and makeup staff, Junhui returns to Minghao, already scribbling on a paper. He tears the cheque off its perforation and presents it. “That okay?”_

_Minghao looks at it. Two hundred fifty-five thousand won. “Hyung, are you sure?”_

_Junhui nods. “You can give me back the five thousand won note you got from Shua-hyung if it’ll make you feel better,” he replies, holding up his palm._

_Minghao is still worried, guilty for taking more than was initially promised. Again. And for what? Because Junhui liked booking him? He sighs, about to weakly slap Junhui’s hand but Junhui closes his fingers too fast and catches Minghao’s hand._

_“I like your work and I want to keep working with you,” Junhui repeats, eyes scanning Minghao’s face. “I asked around and that’s within the fair range for your work.”_

_Minghao reluctantly nods, tucking it in his pocket with his free hand. “I’ll send the files to Shua-hyung tonight.”_

_“Thank you,” Junhui replies softly with a beaming smile. He gently takes Minghao’s wrist, leading it close to him and starts drawing away at Minghao’s left palm with the pen he used to sign the cheque._

_“Hyung?”_

_“Shh,” Junhui coos. Minghao can’t help but watch Junhui’s face as he feels him tracing away at strokes on his palm; the older boy’s eyes look so focused, so concentrated on this menial task, and he even pokes his tongue out a tiny bit. It’s cute._

_“Ta-dah!” Junhui exclaims when he lets go._

_Minghao inspects this palm. And there they are, characters for Wen Jun Hui, just like he said, ‘good at studying’, ‘good-looking’, and ‘can improve’ all in a row. “[You really have the character for ‘good-looking’ in your name?]” Minghao asks, giggling._

_“[I know, right?]” Junhui grins. “[Lucky break, huh? Imagine if I wasn’t.]”_

_“[I’m sure your parents would have been heartbroken.]”_

_Junhui smiles, clicking his pen and putting it back in his pocket. “[You don’t mind if I text you, do you? I’ll get your number from the business card you gave Jisoo, if that’s okay.]”_

_Minghao’s back to blinking rapidly to try to process the information thrown at him. “[I, uh, yeah, sure.] But, hyung, you could have done that earlier.”_

_“Without your permission? What do you think I am?” Junhui does his attempt at a wink again. “[Besides, three more bookings.]”_

_“[Three more bookings until?]” Minghao asks, head tilting to the side curiously._

_Junhui dramatically puts a hand over his heart. “[Ah, you forgot already? You wound me, Xiao Hao.]” Junhui looks over and sees Jisoo approaching to collect him again. “Oh, by the way, I did used to be a dancer!” he calls over his shoulder as he leaves with his manager._

_Minghao giggles, watching him go, feeling something warm and pleasant bubble around his chest._

_+++_

_While Mingyu’s busy working on dinner, Minghao makes sure to email the files from today’s shoot to Jisoo after editing and backs them up on his hard drive just in case. Usually, Minghao doesn’t do much else on his computer after this but he decides to look up Junhui so he can’t be teased for ‘not doing his research’ again._

_Wen Junhui was born in China, grew up in Shenzhen specifically and was a child actor into his teens before coming to Korea. Minghao makes a list of the work Junhui acted in to watch later and then scrolls through some of his photos. Part of him can’t help making mental notes on what angles or lighting they used and which ones work best for Junhui, for future reference of course, until Mingyu calls him over that food is ready._

_Minghao sighs, propping his elbow on the dinner table and leaning his cheek in his hand._

_“So what’s the Moon Junhwi gossip today?” Mingyu asks, putting a bowl of black bean noodles in front of him. Minghao doesn’t move, just flickers his eyes over to glance at him before sighing towards his bowl. “You always have some when you get back from shoots with him, so let’s hear it.”_

_Minghao pokes around at some noodles, folding them onto each other absent-mindedly. “I think I might have a crush on him.”_

_“You what?”_

_Minghao nods a few times, not looking up. “He wants me to ask him out.”_

_“Of fucking course he does,” Mingyu mutters, and Minghao isn’t sure if he was supposed to hear that or not._

_“Do you not like him?” Minghao asks, finally looking at him. “Why would you ask me to talk about him and then get upset when I do? I thought you said you haven’t spoken.”_

_“We haven’t,” Mingyu answers, tone slightly hostile. “I mean— I don’t know.”_

_“Yes, you do.”_

_“Look, I just — I_ hear things, _Myungho. He’s just always messing with people and playing with them and flirting and getting them to ask him out and then he’ll just drop them when he’s bored. Pisses me off.”_

_Minghao tilts his head, staring. “You think he’ll do that to me?”_

_“Obviously,” Mingyu spits. “He’s already got you right where he wants you, and you’re in pretty deep, based on how you’ve been talking about him the past few weeks.”_

_Minghao doesn’t say anything, shoving noodles in his mouth so he has an excuse not to speak._

_After a few moments, Mingyu sighs. “Sorry. That was rude. I’m just looking out for you, you know?”_

_Minghao nods once and while he’s tossing around noodles with his chopsticks, he reaches for the bowl of pickled radish with his left hand. Once he sets the bowl down in front of him, Mingyu grabs his hand._

_“What is this?” he asks, prying Minghao’s fingers away from his palm and eying the markings._

_Minghao instinctively pulls his hand back, tucking it under his thigh to hide it. “Nothing, don’t worry about it.”_

_“Myungho.”_

_“I said it’s nothing. It’s fine, don’t worry about it.”_

_“Myungho, what is on your hand?”_

_Minghao’s eyes jump around, contemplating. Eventually, he pulls his hand out and shows Mingyu._

_“What does it say? Who did this?” Mingyu asks quietly, inspecting his palm. Minghao doesn’t answer again, eyes focused on his food. “It’s Moon Junhwi, isn’t it?” His voice dips and Minghao feels a twinge of something near his eye._

_“You already know it is. Why don’t you just tell me why you seem to hate him so much?”_

_“Tell me what he wrote on your palm.”_

_Minghao scoffs. “It’s just the characters for his name in Chinese,” he grumbles, not sure how much more he wants to say._

_Mingyu sighs, likely about to retort when Minghao’s phone lights up. Minghao pulls his hand back from Mingyu to check on it. It’s a text from an unknown number._

‘[Hi Xiao Hao, it’s Junhui~ you said it was okay to text you so here I am. I don’t have anything scheduled tomorrow so I was wondering if you’d be available to meet for lunch? Let me know]’

_And it’s littered with three sets of cute emojis at the end of each sentence. Seemed very Junhui. Minghao texts back that he is available for lunch. He also saves the number, creating a contact that he contemplates over before settling on ‘[Jun-gē]’._

‘[Lovely! I know a great place. Meet me here tomorrow at 11:45]’ 

_Attached is an address and a screenshot of a map. Minghao sends back an ‘ok’ with a smiley emoji and puts the phone down._

_“It’s him, isn’t it?” Mingyu asks. “You’re doing that disgusting goofy smile.”_

_Minghao ignores him as his phone buzzes again. He slurps some more noodles before looking at it. Junhui again._

‘By the way, I like this picture! Make this the contact picture you have for me pls’

_He actually put a shy, blushing emoji at the end. Minghao looks at the attached picture and sees it’s from today’s shoot. One of the ones where Minghao had to lay on the floor to get a shot of Junhui’s pushing his bangs back. Of course he chose that one._

_Minghao types back_ ‘whatever you say, hyung’ _and tries to compress his smile._

*****

Junhui definitely doesn’t complain when Jisoo drives him home late, he definitely doesn’t complain about having to wait in the lobby for an absurd amount of time because Jisoo wanted to linger on the seventeenth floor just to chat with Jeonghan and Seungcheol. Junhui doesn’t complain about any of these things because it means less time for Jisoo to hover over him and pester him about his _feelings_ or whatever.

After Jisoo does finally drop him off at his building, Junhui makes his way to Wonwoo’s apartment, who still lives a floor down from his own. Wonwoo says he’s working on a project but Junhui doesn’t mind, he wants to hang out anyways and brings leftover food from his apartment like he used to, just to coax Wonwoo into saying yes. 

Whenever Wonwoo works on editing projects, he does them in his room with his computer and dual monitor screens. Junhui used to wonder how Wonwoo could sleep with his bed situated a few feet behind but Wonwoo says it helps him. 

Junhui sits on the bed and watches the back of Wonwoo’s chair where, he assumes, his best friend’s back is hunched over his keyboard while he clicks away and drags things on the screen of his editing timeline. 

Wonwoo is different from Jisoo in that Jisoo gently prods until he knows Junhui feels better, while Wonwoo can sit in complete silence with Junhui and wait for Junhui to feel comfortable saying something to him first. Junhui waits until he hears a lull in the clicking and spacebar tapping before he decides he wants to talk.

“Hey Wonwoo?”

“Yeah?” Wonwoo replies distractedly.

“Compliment me?”

“You’re tall and you have eyes.”

Junhui beams, despite Wonwoo’s dry tone. “Aw, thank you!” Once he’s gotten the distraction out, he waits a few seconds before he asks. “You remember Myungho, right?”

Wonwoo pauses. “Which one?”

“The one you met.”

“Oh, yes, the adorable love of your life one. Of course, you wouldn’t let me forget.”

Junhui grabs the nearest pillow and hugs it, laying back on Wonwoo’s bed. “Hey, you wanted to meet him. Anyways, remember his roommate-best friend?”

Wonwoo strikes the spacebar and _tsks_ before clicking around again. “I’m listening, go on. Myungho’s roommate-best friend who you never met but he apparently hated your guts with his entire soul?”

Junhui may have consulted Wonwoo a few times when he knew that bugging Minghao about it made no sense since Minghao himself was already riled up. He usually asked ‘Wonwoo-yah, how do you comfort your boyfriend when he gets into a fight with his roommate because said boyfriend’s roommate hates you but you’ve never met said boyfriend’s roommate so you don’t know what you did to offend said boyfriend’s roommate in the first place?’ to which Wonwoo answered ‘that’s way too specific for me to know, just hug Myungho and give him tea’ and hung up.

“I was never able to actually confirm that!” Junhui objects. “That was just what Myungho told me.”

“Right, and your cutie little Myungho would never lie to you, of course,” Wonwoo recites. “So what about the roommate?” 

“I finally met him at a shoot earlier. He was pretty friendly but long story short, he asked for a video editor recommendation for something so I told him I’d ask you.”

Wonwoo hits the spacebar one more time before he swivels his chair around. “So basically my best friend’s ex-boyfriend’s roommate as a client?”

Junhui sits up. “I’m assuming as a client but his manager might’ve mentioned it being a personal project. That doesn’t impede your work, does it?”

“I suppose not,” Wonwoo hums, turning back to his computer screen, “but him hating you kind of does.”

“Aww!” Junhui stands up and goes over to hug Wonwoo from the side, wrapping an arm around his neck. “Nonu, you _do_ love me!”

Wonwoo chuckles, pushing his glasses up and messes with his video timeline again. “Yeah yeah.”

“So what do you want me to tell him?”

“Tell him my workload is packed right now so I can’t take on new clients. I’ll make you a list of other video editors if he wants. It won’t be a long list but it’s something.”

Junhui nods against the side of his friend’s head, watching him click clips around and occasionally hitting the spacebar.

Wonwoo looks up at him. “You don’t have to stay, you know. It’s kind of boring to watch.”

Junhui shakes his head. “No, it’s okay.” He goes back to lay on Wonwoo’s bed, staring at the ceiling for a bit before he takes out his phone to text Wonwoo’s response to have Jisoo send over. “I just want to hang out with you, if that’s okay.”

Wonwoo swivels his chair to face Junhui. “It’s always okay, Junnie, but you sound like something else is wrong.”

Junhui lifts his neck up to see him. “Why does something have to be wrong?”

Wonwoo shrugs. “I don’t know, something just feels off. Have you spoken to Myungho since you got back?”

Junhui drops his head back down against the bed. “Why do you guess that?”

“Lucky guess, really. You wouldn’t be so bothered with much else. And you’re being particularly defensive.”

“I’m not being defensive.”

Wonwoo doesn’t respond and Junhui just hears a tired sigh through the nose, imagining the dry look Wonwoo's probably sending him.

Junhui groans. “Ugh, I’m not, it’s…fine. Myungho and I are…civil.”

“You know I can just ask Shua-hyung if you’re lying, right?”

“Shua-hyung loves me, he would never sell me out.”

“So you admit you’re lying?”

Junhui shoots up, glaring before dramatically flinging himself back again with another groan. “I hate how you both do that.”

Wonwoo chuckles. “Not our fault you’re easily tricked. So you’re lying about being civil with Myungho, go on.”

Junhui doesn’t, instead choosing to close his eyes. He doesn't want to talk about the photoshoot with Minghao, he doesn't want to talk about being around him, and he definitely doesn’t want to talk about his run-in with Minghao in the elevator. There’s nothing to say about it, so he doesn’t want to talk about it. He just really had to confirm something. 

Minghao didn’t want him to come back. Minghao was _hoping_ he wouldn’t come back. Minghao didn’t want him here. Minghao didn’t care. And Junhui can’t tell if that means everything has changed or that nothing has. 

Junhui finds solace in the fact that Jisoo was too busy chatting with Jeonghan and Seungcheol that he wasn't in the elevator to see that entire interaction. He knows he definitely would have gotten an earful then.

Wonwoo seems to give up waiting for an answer as Junhui hears a sigh, wheels swivelling, and the return of the _click-click-spacebar-click-spacebar_ sounds.


	3. This is a little dangerous, I think I'll cross a line

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy comeback!! I don't know if I'll update next week since we'll probably be busy with comeback streaming and stuff ^^"  
> thank you for the support on this so far! ♥ I was a bit worried that people wouldn't really pay attention to it unless it was already completed so I'm really grateful to those of you reading and enjoying on this journey !
> 
> this is basically the chapter of em dashes and semi-colons. I have no excuses
> 
> Text in [square brackets] are in Mandarin.
> 
> Chapter title is from Decalcomanie by Mamamoo

Hansol gets home late.

He gets home late because he got stuck editing all the photos from the shoot with Kim Mingyu and Moon Junhwi. Luckily, Myungho had offered to edit some of the photos from the musical theatre shoot so it wasn't completely bad. 

It seemed a bit peculiar but something seemed off with Myungho the rest of the evening. If Hansol were a gambling man, he’d say it felt a little like Myungho had almost refrosted back to the Myungho he met: on edge and testy, just with more forced smiles and overly-saccharine covered lies. 

But Hansol isn’t really one for complaining about work, he was happy that Myungho was giving him more to do since it felt like he was trusting him more.

After replying to a text from Mingyu, he takes out his phone and dials a familiar number, hoping to get an answer.

After about four rings, he hears a bright, cheery, _“Hello, this is manager to Kim Mingyu, Boo Seungkwan, how can I help you?”_

“It’s late, are you really still on the clock?”

 _“Oh,”_ Seungkwan realizes, voice dipping down. _“Hansol-ssi, it's you. Okay, Hansol-ssi, how can I help you? Are you calling about Kim Mingyu’s schedule again?”_

Hansol smiles. “That’s what your job is, isn’t it?”

Seungkwan groans over the line to Hansol’s giggly amusement.

Hansol and Seungkwan met a few times before, not enough that Seungkwan wanted to drop honorifics though.

Their first meeting was before Myungho moved out of the apartment he shared with Mingyu and before they’d been given a studio to work with. Myungho had brought him over to show him, on his own computer, how he usually does the photo editing and retouching process, things Hansol took careful note of since he’d just started a few weeks earlier and was eager to impress his frigid new boss. Or by the very least, give him less to be upset about.

As they were finishing up and headed to the kitchen for snacks at the dining table, Mingyu had just gotten home, being tailed by a nagging manager who introduced himself as Seungkwan. Hansol isn’t sure what it was, but he just couldn’t stop watching how Seungkwan was able to go from sweetly introducing himself to harshly nagging Mingyu and then to pouting and stomping his foot when Mingyu retorted. It was cute, interesting, endearing. And Hansol found himself immensely fascinated. 

Once Seungkwan left and Mingyu had retreated to his room, Hansol turned to Myungho and instinctively asked, “Love at first sight isn’t real, right?” It was a mistake, Hansol realized in hindsight, as Myungho darkly responded, “No,” and immediately got up from the table. 

From there, Hansol wasn’t really sure if Myungho was always grouchy or if he specifically disliked him. As Mingyu came out of his room, Hansol decided that the tall model was his best hope at understanding both Myungho _and_ Seungkwan and asked for advice. Mingyu was extremely friendly and insisted that Hansol call him ‘hyung’ almost right away, especially after Hansol relayed his worries to him.

Since befriending him, however, to Hansol’s dismay, Myungho had actually only booked Mingyu exactly once, saying something about not feeling comfortable with it.

That didn’t stop Hansol from constantly asking so he could figure out how to get closer to Seungkwan. He hung out at the apartment more, mostly hanging out with Mingyu, even after Myungho had moved out of there, and occasionally catching Seungkwan when he came to get Mingyu.

“I’m just saying,” Hansol asks into the phone, grinning, “does anyone actually call you _not_ asking about Mingyu-hyung’s schedule?” 

_“Sometimes they do!”_ Seungkwan insists, and Hansol can hear the pout coming through. _“So then, what is this call about? You know, I asked Myungho-hyung and he said you guys don’t actually have to book Mingyu-hyung for anything so I’m onto you.”_

Hansol bites his lip, having to think fast now that Myungho had basically exposed him. “I was actually curious about your schedule.”

_“My schedule? But I’m a manager.”_

“I’m aware.”

_“You can’t book me for anything, I’m managing Kim Mingyu.”_

“Who said anything about booking you for something?” 

_“You’re Myungho-hyung’s assistant, aren’t you? So aren’t you asking about something related to a photoshoot?”_

Hansol hums. “I’m his assistant, yeah, but I never said I wanted to book something, especially not a photoshoot.” He doesn’t feel like adding that he doesn’t really have the authority to do that, especially off hours and _especially_ without Myungho’s knowledge. He’s not dumb enough to try it either. “I wanted to know when you’re free.”

_“Hmm, well my schedule revolves around Kim Mingyu’s schedule.”_

Hansol laughs. “So no matter what, it leads back to Mingyu-hyung’s schedule anyway?”

Seungkwan makes an indignant gasp over the line.

“Hey, you’re the one that did it,” Hansol returns, grinning.

Seungkwan sighs. _“Without Mingyu-hyung’s schedule, I’m only really free early in the mornings when I get coffee.”_

“Okay, so can I get coffee with you?”

 _“What? Why?”_ Seungkwan sounds genuinely confused. Just as Hansol is about to answer, Seungkwan continues, _“Wait, you’re Myungho-hyung’s_ assistant,” he says, as if he’s just realized something.

“We’ve established that, yes. What about it?”

_“Do you know what the connection is between Myungho-hyung and Moon Junhwi?”_

Hansol starts coughing, almost choking on his own saliva and pulls the phone away from his mouth. The first time Seungkwan isn’t talking about Mingyu’s schedule, it has to be _that?_

“Uh, they’re in the same company. Myungho-hyung photographs him,” he says when he recovers.

Hansol hears a puffed sigh. _“No, not that. When Mingyu-hyung and I were talking to Moon Junhwi after their shoot, he suddenly_ thanked _Mingyu-hyung for taking care of Myungho-hyung.”_ Seungkwan starts making gasping noises over the phone. _“And it didn’t sound like just a normal company thing, you know what I mean?”_

“I uh, I didn’t realize you were a penchant for gossip.”

 _“Excuse you, Myungho-hyung has been one of my favorite hyungs for years! I just find it unfair how he never mentioned anything about Moon Junhwi to me!”_ Seungkwan retorts, whining.

Hansol frowns. “Oh, uh, do you like Moon Junhwi or something?”

Seungkwan makes another indignant noise and then sputters. _“I am a_ fan, _okay, there’s a difference! And I know you_ know something, _otherwise you wouldn’t have coughed all in my ear when I asked. Mingyu-hyung won’t tell me anything!”_

“Uh, there’s probably a good reason for that though.”

 _“I can’t believe I’m the only one who doesn’t know anything. I thought Myungho-hyung loved me.”_ Seungkwan’s voice mumbles, dipping again in what sounds like a sad pout. _“ Do you know what I’ve done for him before?! I risked a lot, okay?”_

Hansol panics. After all he went through to get out of Myungho’s frigid side, he doesn’t want to go back. But on the other hand, this is the only time Seungkwan isn’t talking about Mingyu’s schedule or his job. Does he really have anything else he can relate to Seungkwan about?

He closes his eyes and silently prays Myungho will forgive him for what he’s about to do. “I can try to tell you what I know. Over coffee.”

Seungkwan gasps. _“Really? Oh my god, I knew I could count on you, Hansol-ah.”_

“We’re dropping honorifics now?”

_“Yes, you’re my new best friend. We were born in the same year, right? I’m dropping Mingyu-hyung for you.”_

“How do you know that? Wait, Mingyu-hyung was your best friend?”

_“Don’t judge me. So I’ll see you at 6:00 tomorrow for coffee? I’ll text you the address of the place I go to.”_

“What, why so early?”

 _“It should be enough time for you to tell me everything before work. See you!”_ Seungkwan says excitedly before he speedily hangs up.

Hansol takes a deep breath, wondering what he just did and how angry Myungho will be.

+++

After finally getting home and finishing his shower, Minghao walks towards his fridge, looking for anything he can just warm up. He ended up not getting that message from Seokmin’s musical acting senior since Minghao wasn’t able to catch him before he left and the next group came in, but he was distracted anyways so it probably wouldn’t have mattered much. 

Minghao’s mind is too clouded, too busy playing back the encounter with Junhui in the elevator. Any chance Minghao might have had at reconciling or having any of his little hopes come true was severed right in front of him once those elevator doors closed. 

He can’t exactly blame Junhui for being so angry and bitter after all, but that doesn’t mean it still didn’t sting.

He goes to his computer, lets himself finally look through the folder of Junhui in his hard drive he hadn’t looked at in ages. There are hundreds, thousands of dumb pictures of him with Junhui. It was part of his job, sure, but there are too many that have nothing to do with work. 

Many are just him laying with Junhui on a couch, selfies with Junhui on their dates, shots of Minghao in front of a sleeping Junhui. There are some taken by Junhui, mostly the model judging his food choices and he can still hear the cheery _“but Xiao Hao, you’re always taking pictures of me so it’s my turn! You need to be in shots too,”_ playing in his ear.

These probably aren’t the pictures that Hansol is talking about when he says that he _‘gets it’_ , but they probably have the same effect. Reminders of the things he gave up and walked away from, things he no longer has the rights to. 

Maybe that’s the downside of being a photographer, you have the memories preserved forever, even if you might not want them anymore.

Minghao gets pulled from his thoughts by a buzz at his doorbell. He tightens his robe and opens the door to find a grinning Mingyu in the doorway, holding up a bottle of wine, dressed in just sweatpants and a v-neck t-shirt.

“What are you doing here?” Minghao asks dryly.

Mingyu shoves past him, still grinning. “Do I need an excuse to hang out with my best friend and former roomie?”

Minghao shuts the door behind him, warily following Mingyu to the kitchen. He watches the tall model start pulling out glasses from his cupboard in a way that’s too comfortable for Minghao’s liking. 

“No, seriously. What are you doing here?”

“I came to check on you,” Mingyu replies, popping open his wine bottle and grabbing the glasses.

“What for?”

“Because you did a shoot with Moon Junhwi today and I know something’s bound to be up.”

Minghao sighs through his nose, watching him. 

“I was at that shoot too, you know. I have eyes. And I know you.” Mingyu grins. At Minghao’s brow raise, he sighs. “Plus I texted Hansol and he said something was off with you after the shoot wrapped.” 

Minghao narrows his eyes. “You two meeting was a mistake.”

Mingyu shrugs, still smiling. “Should’ve thought of that before you were so mean to him early on. I was his only hyung.”

Minghao rolls his eyes. 

Mingyu heads towards Minghao’s living room area. “I know it’s about Junhwi and you’re going to tell me what’s up.”

Minghao watches Mingyu take a seat, set the wine and glasses down on the table before pouring out portions in each glass. When Minghao doesn’t move, Mingyu pats the seat on the couch next to him. 

Reluctantly, Minghao goes over to the sofa and sits next to Mingyu, clinking their glasses together before he leans back and starts sipping away. 

It’s curious this time, how Mingyu doesn’t prod him, how Mingyu just quietly watches and waits for him to talk. 

As he pulls the glass away from his face, Minghao sighs. “I think I might still have feelings for Junhwi,” he says, staring at the table and waiting for the response he knows is probably coming. When he finally looks over at Mingyu, he’s just watching, eyes blinking away and glass still in front of his face. “Well? Aren’t you going to say something?”

Mingyu blinks a few more times. “Like what? Do you want me to act shocked? I thought you were gonna keep going. I could’ve told you that even before he came back.” 

“I don’t know, I thought I was over it, I _wanted_ to be over it,” Minghao utters with a small pout. “And don’t you dare say ‘when?’”

Mingyu sighs and puts his glass down on the table. Minghao watches to see if he’s going to say something, but his former roommate just continues staring at the wine glass. 

“I thought you were going to say something,” Minghao giggles, slapping Mingyu’s knee.

“Shut up, I’m thinking,” Mingyu grumbles back. He runs a hand through his hair and leans back against the sofa. “Look, I don’t know what you want me to say but it’s just, it was very obvious you weren’t over it, even if you never said anything. At least you’re finally admitting it though.”

Minghao frowns, leaning back against the sofa too, and sighs. 

Mingyu grunts, nudging his head over to look at him. “So you figured out you still have feelings for Junhwi. What’s the problem?” he asks in a low worried tone that’s oddly comforting. 

Minghao snorts. “For one thing, he hates me. For another, it’s been years so he’s probably moved on. For three, I pretty much gave up any right to his life years ago, and finally, he seems to really hate me.”

“You think he hates you?”

Minghao nods lamely, not wanting to bother explaining the whole ‘reading Junhui’ thing, let alone what happened in the elevator.

Mingyu sits back up to sip at his wine again. “I was talking to him at that shoot.”

“I saw.”

Mingyu snorts an amused chuckle. “You don’t have to sound so crabby. We didn’t talk about you or anything, he was pretty friendly. But right before Kwannie dragged me off, Junhwi thanked me for taking care of you. I figured he must’ve meant after he left, but it’s something. Didn’t sound like he hated you to me.”

Minghao frowns as he takes this in, trying to control his heart. “He did?”

Mingyu nods. “Yep. He was all ‘hey Mingyu-ssi, thanks for taking care of Myungho.’”

Minghao sits back against the sofa again. He doesn't know what this means. Junhui thanked Mingyu for taking care of him? After mocking him earlier by asking if Minghao would actually take care of him this time? Then whatever the hell that was in the elevator?

Minghao wishes he could still read Junhui somehow. 

“Kwannie wouldn’t stop asking me about it when we left though, so you might wanna watch out for him,” Mingyu adds, smirking as he sips at his wine glass. 

Minghao frowns. He doesn’t know what would be gained by Seungkwan knowing about his history with Junhui but it probably can’t be good.

*****

_Minghao checks his phone. Junhui may have texted to meet him for lunch at 11:45 but Minghao still makes sure to get to the address spot Junhui sent him for lunch at least eight minutes earlier._

_He jogs up to the corner and takes out his phone to double-check that he has the right place, mostly out of paranoia. His head keeps moving about, down to his screen, up to the street sign, over to the shop in front, to the right to check if he recognizes anyone approaching._

_It’s not a date, he keeps telling himself, Junhui never said it was a date, it’s just lunch. Minghao’s not an idiot, he at least knows he has a crush on Junhui and he will admit it. To Mingyu and to himself._

_But it’s fine because crushes were small, they were no big deal, right? When Minghao thinks about Mingyu’s warnings, on why he thinks Junhui was a bad idea, he tries to control his crush in case anything Mingyu said was actually true. So he can’t let himself think, or hope, that this is a date._

_He only briefly considered it before, how Mingyu said he heard along the ‘model grapevine’ that Junhui tends to mess with people, that he flirts with them, likely enough so that they ask him out, and then drops them when he’s bored. It was easier to get mad at Mingyu than admit that he was secretly scared Mingyu might be right._

_The Junhui that Minghao had spent time with so far hadn’t matched the sinister descriptions Mingyu was depicting, but it still sent a terrible feeling down Minghao’s gut. Sure, Junhui was a bit of a prankster and their time together could basically amount to a little over five hours total over the past five weeks, but was that really enough to discern Junhui was one thing or another?_

_“[Oh, Xiao Hao, you’re early!]”_

_Minghao turns his head to see Junhui getting out of a car across the street, spotting Jisoo at the wheel. He waves as Jisoo smiles and drives off. Junhui has a grey sweater on, hood pulled over his head, a black face mask covering his nose and mouth, and washed out denim jeans._

_He looks in both directions before tucking both hands in his sweater pocket and jogging across the street to meet him. As Junhui gets closer, Minghao realizes he does not have this crush under control as the butterfly children in his stomach fully form and rattle around, knocking heavily against his insides, letting him know that they are very much there._

_Once Junhui stops in front of Minghao, he tugs his mask down under his chin and smiles. It occurs to Minghao how this is the first time he’s seen the model without makeup or styling, without being on a shoot, and that it doesn’t matter because Junhui still looks breathtakingly fascinating to him. He actually might like it better this way._

_“What?” Junhui asks, chuckling nervously. “Why are you staring at me like that?”_

_“It’s just,” Minghao starts, lightly tapping at his own brow bone with his pinky, “your eyes are really pretty. Even, uh, especially without the makeup. I just noticed it’s my first time seeing them like that...” he trails off nervously, hoping the other doesn’t get offended somehow._

_An unsure smile cracks on Junhui’s lips as he tilts his head curiously for a second. Next thing Minghao knows, Junhui blocks his own face with his sleeve-covered hands and starts laughing._

_Minghao starts panicking, head turning frantically, looking for an escape route out of sheer embarrassment._

_“Ah, you’re so cute,” Junhui says with a happy sigh, lowering his hands. “Thank you. I’m going to pretend you didn’t sound completely surprised saying I look good.”_

_Minghao doesn’t get much chance to respond as one of Junhui’s hands quickly uncovers itself from its sleeve and grabs Minghao’s wrist._

_“Come, let’s go.”_

_Minghao lets Junhui drag him past a few shop fronts, mostly of small restaurants before he stops at one with a red banner overhead and pulls him inside._

_It’s a very small homely type of restaurant, modest and felt family-owned. A middle-aged woman leads them to a table away from the windows, smiling. Junhui enthusiastically takes charge of orders, reciting it in a way that’s too familiar for it to have been his first time._

_Once the woman heads towards the kitchen, Junhui settles in his seat and pulls his hood from his head, forgoing the mask completely and shoves it in his pocket. He stares, beaming at Minghao._

_“You don’t mind that I ordered, right? There are a few favorites that I like.”_

_Minghao shakes his head, moving his chopsticks aside, nervously trying to make room on the table in front of him for things that aren’t here yet. “I’m just following your lead, hyung.”_

_Junhui grins. “I’ve been here before, I’m sure you’ll like it,” he says, pulling out his phone from his sweater pocket._

_Minghao doesn’t know how offended he feels when Junhui starts tapping away and then holds the phone to his ear. He wonders if Junhui would be calling Jisoo for some reason at this time, even though he just saw the manager drop him off a few minutes ago. Then Minghao feels his own phone going off in his pocket and looks up at Junhui._

_Junhui’s eyes drift to him. “Aren’t you going to get that?” he asks, eyes flickering down to where the sound is coming from on Minghao’s side._

_Pouting in confusion, Minghao fishes his phone out from his pocket and looks at it. He’s only able to register it for a second before Junhui lightly takes it from his hands, setting his own phone aside._

_“[Aw, you did put the contact picture I asked you to use! And you saved me as Jun-gē, you’re so cute!]” Junhui says, giggling in amusement before he cancels the call on his own phone._

_Minghao flushes, trying not to pay too much attention to the fact that Junhui already called him cute twice today, before the meal even started. “[Did you think I wouldn’t use it? I told you I would.]”_

_Junhui waves a dismissive hand. “[Yeah, but you could’ve just been saying that to shut me up.]”_

_Minghao purses his lips and quirks his head to the side. “[Hm, the thought did cross my mind,]” he teases._

_Junhui makes a playfully snide face at him, taking a sip of water with one hand as he gives Minghao back his phone with the other._

_Minghao takes it, staring at his reflection in the screen, the initial giddy embarrassed reaction fading off. He flicks his gaze back to Junhui. “[You know, if you wanted to see your contact on my phone, you could’ve just asked me, I would’ve shown you. You didn’t have to call it like that,]” he says slowly, tucking his phone back in his pocket._

_As Junhui puts his glass of water down, he leans his head forward, carefully watching Minghao’s expression. “[Ah, are you upset? I’m sorry.]”_

_Minghao breaks the eye contact, quickly looking to the side before looking back at Junhui. “[Not upset, just a bit annoyed and uncomfortable, I guess?]”_

_Junhui nods, leaning back. “[Noted. I won’t do it again, Xiao Hao.]”_

_Minghao smiles, dipping his chin in thanks and leans forward on the table, about to speak just as one of the servers delivers a plate of dumplings on the table. Junhui seems to notice this and giggle, gesturing for Minghao to go ahead. To eat or continue his thought, Minghao isn’t sure. He chooses both._

_“So, Jun-hyung, you used to do acting in China?” he asks around the dumpling in his mouth._

_Junhui hums an interested noise at him, tilting his chin up and moving his water glass aside. “Oh, you finally did your research, did you?” he teases, tossing a dumpling in his mouth._

_Minghao scrunches his face, embarrassed, and nods._

_Junhui leans his chin in his hand, propping his elbow on the table. “I’m flattered by your interest in me. So, what do you want to know?”_

_“I was just curious why you stopped. I watched some of them and you were really good. Would you ever try it again?” Minghao asks, taking a sip of his own water. When Junhui falls silent and just stares at him, Minghao hurriedly adds, “Sorry if that’s a personal question. You don’t have to answer.”_

_Junhui sighs thoughtfully towards the ceiling. “No, it’s not that. It’s just, I hadn’t really thought about it. I was a kid who got into it by chance and it was something to do. When I was a teenager, I guess I got bored and figured I could try modeling instead.”_

_Minghao starts nodding. “Oh, well,” he says, slightly flustered, “if you got bored, then there’s nothing you could do about it, right?”_

_Junhui’s lips form a soft amused smile. “You sound disappointed.”_

_“A little,” Minghao admits sheepishly. “I just thought you were really good, it’d be a shame to waste that.”_

_Junhui stares at him, the soft smile still on his face. After a few moments of the wordless staring, Minghao finally averts his gaze, feeling a bit uncomfortable in the sudden silence but he can still feel Junhui’s eyes on him. He doesn’t know what to say now but he starts feeling like he said something wrong, like he shouldn’t have brought it up at all._

_“I’ll think about it,” Junhui finally says._

_Minghao blinks a few times. “You will?”_

_Junhui puffs out an amused exhale of a chuckle through his nose, nodding and he shrugs once nonchalantly. “Yeah, I mean,” he pauses, one hand idly playing with the spoon in front of him, “I have a fan now, so it’d be a shame to let them down, right?”_

_Minghao feels his face flush up at the implication, experimentally feeling the tips of his own ears for their temperature. “Oh.”_

_The lady from before comes by, placing a large bowl of mala xiang guo in the middle of the table, a distraction Minghao welcomes and he starts scooping some into his individual bowl, doing his best to hide his fluster._

_Junhui smiles wider, quirking his head up as he watches him. “You’re so cute.”_

_This isn’t good for Minghao._

_The last couple of times Junhui had said that, it was accompanied by some sort of amused laughter that Minghao could at least pass off as just teasing jokes._

_This time, there’s no giggling or chuckling or anything; his voice and the way Junhui’s looking at him right now just seem so purely fond and earnest that Minghao really doesn’t know what he’s going to do with himself and his stupid-ass crush._

_A different server comes by with two bowls of steamed rice. Minghao uses the lull to gather himself and waits for the server to leave before he asks, “Why do you say things like that?”_

_Junhui hums a curious noise and leans forward over the table. “That you’re cute? Does it bother you?” His eyes seem worried, like he would actually stop if Minghao asked him to, the way he did earlier with the phone call._

_It doesn’t bother Minghao, quite the opposite, really. It makes all the butterflies in his stomach flutter around twice as fast and crash into each other._

_But it does make him worry whether Junhui is really playing with him like Mingyu says or if he really means all those hints at affection. The foolish part of Minghao really wants to let himself believe that Junhui means something behind his words. He doesn’t want to let himself believe it only for Mingyu to be right and Junhui’s just ‘messing with him like he does with everyone else.’_

_Like Mingyu said, Minghao’s already in way too deep for that._

_He shakes his head. “I was just curious.”_

_“I say them because I think them,” Junhui replies, offering a nervous smile. “That’s all.”_

_Minghao gulps and lets himself ask, “You actually think I’m cute?”_

_Junhui nods enthusiastically. “Very much so. Adorable, actually.”_

_“Do you say that to everyone?”_

_Junhui looks around. “Who’s everyone?”_

_“Everyone, like other photographers and staff and people you work with and stuff.”_

_“Eh? But I told you I was booking you for all my shoots, didn’t I? What other photographers and staff do you mean?” Junhui asks, shaking some of his fringe away from his eyes._

_Minghao feels something weird bubbling in his chest and he’s not sure if he wants to continue answering, he’s said too much already._

_“I’m confused. You think I say these things to anyone?” Junhui’s tone is more gentle than accusatory and it makes Minghao feel a bit bad._

_“It’s just — I really don’t want you to just be messing with me, hyung.”_

_Junhui leans back against his seat again, arms crossed and thinking. The lady from before comes back, sliding a plate of lamb skewers on the table._

_Junhui picks one up and observes it for a few seconds, pursing his lips before he looks up at Minghao. “Is it because of the Ahn Hyejin story I told before?” he asks delicately. “That wasn’t to prank you or anything, it’s just… something I have to do.”_

_“No, it’s not that. I don’t really mind that anymore.” Minghao sees Junhui’s expression soften. “I guess I’m just cautious?”_

_“Ah, of what?” Junhui asks eagerly, curiously, like he wants to help._

_Minghao has too many answers he wants to say. ‘_ Of my huge crush on you?’, ‘Of liking you too much?’, ‘Of Mingyu’s warnings that you mess with people a lot and drop them?’, ‘Of Mingyu’s warnings that you do this to everyone?’ _He clears his throat. “Of you.”_

_“Of me?” Junhui’s eyes turn sad, concerned, almost hurt. “Did I do something to offend you?”_

_“No, of course not.”_

_“But you think you have to be cautious of me,” Junhui slowly repeats, voice dipping low, and Minghao hesitantly nods. “So I must have done something to make you think that way.”_

_Minghao watches as the model pouts to himself and starts eating, face still pensive. “Hyung, I’m sorry, I— I don’t know. I didn’t know it would bother you that much.”_

_Junhui idly stirs his chopsticks around his bowl, focused on poking at a lotus root. “It’s just, I thought we were getting closer, you know?” He quickly looks up at Minghao, expression slightly embarrassed. “I thought you knew I liked you and I thought you liked me.”_

_Oh._

_Oh no._

_“We are. Getting closer, I mean. It’s just,” Minghao says, rushing to reassure him. “Sorry, it’s just my roommate told me some stuff about you that made me think…” he trails off, guilty. He checks Junhui’s expression; he’s stunned._

_“The roommate of yours that I’ve never met?” Junhui asks, voice filled with confusion and hurt, maybe a twinge of betrayal. “You think he would know me better than you?”_

_Minghao nibbles a bit at his bottom lip nervously, trying to figure out how to fix this. “It’s just he said he heard stuff and… I’m sorry, you’re right, I shouldn’t have believed him.”_

_Junhui presses his lips together and his eyes start looking around, thinking again. Minghao thinks he can see Junhui fighting a smile at the corner of his lips before Junhui puts his arms to the side and flaps them until his sleeves envelope his hands so he can cover his face again._

_“No, you shouldn’t have,” he mumbles from behind his sweater-covered hands. It reminds Minghao of a petulant toddler almost, when they try to insist ‘_ I’m mad at you’ _at their parents but they aren’t really. It’s cute and it makes Minghao laugh._

_“I won’t do it again, hyung. I’m sorry,” Minghao continues in a gentle cooing voice, smiling, like trying to coax out a small animal from hiding._

_There are a few seconds of silence while Junhui seems to think it over but for some reason, Minghao can’t stop smiling._

_“Good,” Junhui eventually says in a pout-filled voice, taking his hands off his face. “I wouldn’t do something like that to you, Xiao Hao, don’t you know me by now?”_

_“Over the past month or so, I’ve only technically known you for about five hours.” He flicks his wrist to check his watch. “Almost six, if we count this lunch.”_

_Junhui pulls his sleeves off his hands to continue eating. “Are you saying that’s too little?”_

_Minghao thinks this over for a few moments before he gives a small, shy nod._

_Junhui smiles. “I’m glad we agree! I’d like to spend more time with you too,” he says before looking down and digging through his sweater pocket._

_The fond, earnest voice is back and Minghao thinks his heart rate has picked up again. He quickly darts his tongue out to lick his lips, resisting the urge to check his ear temperature again._

_Junhui pulls out a small card from the back of his phone case and passes it over. “I asked my agency if you could do a test shoot, as a condition to see if you could be signed on full-time. I know you’re freelance so it’s just, you know, only if you want it.” He says the last bit nervously before continuing, “It’d be a paid shoot, of course. Just call him and he’ll help set it up. You probably won’t just be shooting pictures of me though.”_

_Minghao looks at the card. An HR Manager, Lee Chan. Minghao nods. “I’ll do it.”_

_Junhui beams an excited full smile, one so bright and pure that Minghao wishes he could’ve taken a picture to hang in a section of his mind. The moment ends too quickly as Junhui merrily continues eating._

_Minghao looks down at the card again; so that was the purpose of the lunch. It wasn’t a date, but Minghao wouldn’t say he’s disappointed. He smiles, tucking the card away._

_Maybe having a stupid-ass crush on Wen Junhui wasn’t so terrible after all._

*****

The next morning, Hansol waits at one of the tables in the café that Seungkwan texted him. He’s about six minutes early and already texted Seungkwan that he’s at a table near the back. He gets himself a regular coffee and decides to use the time to think if he really wants to sell his boss’ relationship out for a crush. He doesn’t get to dwell on it too long as Seungkwan slides into the chair across from him, iced Americano in hand.

“So you know things, spill.”

Hansol scoffs. “Not even a hello?”

Seungkwan rolls his eyes. “Hello, Hansol. What’s the dirt on Myungho-hyung and Moon Junhwi?” He smiles excitedly around his straw, sipping away.

“Okay, before I start, I told you I would _try_ to tell you what I know,” Hansol says, cautious.

“Which is a lot, right?”

Hansol shrugs. “Not really. Just what Mingyu-hyung told me.”

“That’s still more than what Mingyu-hyung tells _me._ ” The wrist holding Seungkwan’s drink goes limp, just turning idly. “But you’ve also been up close with Myungho-hyung so you must know _something._ ”

Hansol sighs, trying to figure out what he wants to do here. “First, I wanna know why you’re such a big fan of Moon Junhwi that this is so important to you.”

Seungkwan’s jaw drops in offense. “You mean you haven’t seen his work?”

Hansol purses his lips and shakes his head.

Seungkwan slams his hand on the table. “Okay, I’m getting you a list of his stuff and sending it to you.” He turns his head away and starts muttering to himself, brows furrowed. “Actually, I’ll put them on a USB for you, make it easier,” he decides, nodding.

Hansol just goes with it, nodding in return. If Seungkwan has to go home and bring him a USB, it means a guaranteed second meeting. And a third one to give it back.

Seungkwan taps the table a few times excitedly. “Okay, your turn. What did Moon Junhwi mean when he thanked Mingyu-hyung for taking care of Myungho-hyung?”

Hansol chuckles. “I’m closer to Myungho-hyung. I just _met_ Moon Junhwi yesterday so I don’t know what he means.”

“It sounded important, though, the way he said it,” Seungkwan continues, excitedly deducing to himself. “Do you think they dated? They probably dated, right?”

“Mingyu-hyung and Myungho-hyung?” Hansol stupidly asks to try and throw Seungkwan off. 

“No, Moon Junhwi and Myungho-hyung! Keep up here!” Seungkwan whines with a small pout that Hansol can’t help laughing at.

Hansol doesn’t respond for a bit, watching Seungkwan and thinking about his options. “You knew Myungho-hyung way before I did, probably even before Moon Junwhi-ssi even went to China, right?” he asks slowly.

Seungkwan guiltily dips his chin down, sipping at his straw as his eyes dart all over the table. He shyly nods.

“If there was something between them then, would you have been able to tell?”

Seungkwan pouts. “But Myungho-hyung is so secretive! I can’t really tell much of anything with him!”

Hansol bursts out laughing, leaning back. “Exactly! So what makes you think I can tell you anything about him if he didn’t tell you himself? He doesn’t even really tell _me_ things that don’t have to do with work. Most things I know about him came from Mingyu-hyung.” 

“But you could _observe_ things, right?”

At Seungkwan’s pouting, upset expression, Hansol shifts forward, patting Seungkwan’s hand on the table. “Look, I happen to value my work relationship with Myungho-hyung right now, I worked really hard to get him to like me. I wish I could, but I can’t say anything without worrying about what he would do to me after.”

Seungkwan gasps. “Then why did you say you would meet me today saying you were going to tell me what you knew if you weren’t actually going to tell me anything?”

“Because I wanted to get coffee with you?” Hansol offers, wriggling his head a bit.

Seungkwan huffs, pouting slightly as he turns away.

Hansol sighs, leaning back in his seat. “I still don’t know why this matters so much to you.”

Seungkwan slams his almost-empty cup on the table. “That’s it! When you see Moon Junhwi’s stuff in the USB I give you, you’ll get it.”

Hansol dips his chin down, biting at his bottom lip as he thinks. “We should probably go through them together. You know, so you can explain them to me,” he says, looking up and watching Seungkwan’s skeptical expression. “It’ll help me understand better.”

Seungkwan’s eyes narrow as he scans Hansol’s face. “Hmm.” Then he brightens. “Okay! Don’t worry, I’ll explain everything, it’ll be great! Oh, you can just come over so it’ll be easier.” He claps to himself.

Hansol nods, smiling as he watches him. “Great. So are you free on the weekend then?”

+++

Minghao isn’t sure what to make of it when he walks in at eight and Hansol is already in the studio. Earlier than him.

“What’s going on?”

Hansol looks up from his computer. “What do you mean?”

“You’re early,” Minghao states blankly, making his way to his desk. “Why are you here earlier than me?”

Hansol purses his lips and leans back in his chair. “Hm? Commute was good?”

“You walk.”

“Like I said, commute was good. Less uh, less people on the sidewalk.”

“The number of people on the sidewalk doesn’t affect your speed if you’re walking.”

Hansol propels himself back upward, the hinge of the chair making a solid clap sound. “That’s not true, hyung! There are some slow-walking people out there!”

Minghao narrows his eyes. “You’re usually too busy ‘chilling and vibing’ to be rushing though.”

Hansol blinks. “Uh, I rush out of loyalty to you.”

“But only today?” Minghao skeptically asks, to which Hansol’s eyes widen. “Would that loyalty have anything to do with you telling Mingyu that something was off with me yesterday?”

Hansol’s jaw falls open. “Look, hyung,” he starts, voice serious. Minghao raises his brow, interested and waiting. Hansol just gasps and slots himself back in front of his computer, elbow on the table.

Minghao chuckles and quietly checks his own computer. There are a couple company-wide email announcements, a reply from Jeonghan thanking him for the photoshoot files, a reply from the musical theatre department director, and an automated email generated from his company calendar. 

Jisoo booked a time slot next week for the lunch he was talking about.

Minghao should’ve known there was no way Jisoo would talk about a lunch just for show. When he checks the attendee details, it’s just himself, Jisoo, Hansol, and Junhui. 

Of course. There’s also no way Jisoo wouldn’t be able to book Junhui for something; it was his job to know Junhui’s schedule. He’s a little surprised Junhui marked himself as saying ‘attending’, but Jisoo probably wouldn’t have given him a choice. 

“Hansol-ah?” he suddenly calls in the room. “You got Shua-hyung’s email, right?” 

“About the lunch? Yeah, he told us about that, remember? Why?”

Minghao bites his lip. “We don’t have anything scheduled around there, do we?” He shouldn’t be hopeful for an excuse to not attend for whatever reason, but he is. He doesn’t know how to handle Junhui yet, not with all the questions still circling his head.

“Hm, no. It was booked around the company calendar. They can see our schedule,” Hansol replies, frowning curiously at him. “Hyung, you know how the calendar works. I already said yes so if you say no now, he’ll think you’re avoiding him.”

Minghao sighs, focused back on his screen. “You’re getting too smart, you know that?” he says as he hesitantly clicks ‘attending’ anyways.

Hansol grins. “Isn’t that why you hired me?”

Minghao just chuckles in response, idly scrolling through the rest of his inbox.

“Besides, hyung, I told you I’d help you out with Moon Junhwi if you needed it,” Hansol quietly adds.

Minghao smiles in appreciation and lets the words float in the air. He really can’t tell if Hansol is extremely astute or if Minghao is just dreadfully obvious. Probably a combination of both.

Their first schedule didn’t start for another two hours and Hansol quickly starts calling the other departments to make sure the preparations are ready, or at least getting ready. 

In the meantime, Minghao looks over his schedule again, just a session with one of the junior models for a brand deal and another with one of the actors to supposedly help with promotion shots. Minghao stands from his desk, about to head to the cabinet to look for some equipment when there’s a knock at the studio door before it lightly swings open. 

Junhui stands in the doorway, almost completely void of any styling or makeup. He looks around, noticing that Hansol is busy on the phone and turns his attention on Minghao.

It’s really strange, Minghao notices, how in defiance of time and history and logic, Junhui’s eyes still have this mystical, otherworldly power to pull Minghao in, ensnare him and draw him so close that Minghao couldn’t find a way out, even if he wanted to.

There’s an odd thrill, having Junhui’s focus on him like this again, pure and honest. It’s addicting and everything Minghao remembers. Like the missing years melt away and he’s suspended in time, like he’s back at that street corner watching Junhui run up to him for lunch where Minghao blurts out that Junhui’s eyes were pretty, like Junhui still wanted him again, like one of his foolish hopes could come true. 

He wonders if maybe it’s just because he’s just been so starved of Junhui’s direct attention that even this feels like it could restart Minghao’s world and light it up again.

“Jeonghannie-hyung told me this is where you worked,” Junhui supplies, smiling nervously and snapping Minghao out of his spell.

He nods. “Yeah, this is our studio office now,” he says with a weak gesture around the room. “Can I help you?”

Junhui glances at Hansol again; the younger is still on the phone but his eyes are drifting between the pair warily. Junhui looks back at Minghao, walking forward and closing the door behind him. “The photos from the shoot I did with you and Mingyu-ssi yesterday,” he starts, clasping his hands behind his back.

Minghao nods again. “They were sent off to Jeonghannie-hyung, but I’m pretty sure you and Shua-hyung should’ve been CC’d on that? Did you get them?” 

He keeps his voice even, doing the best customer service voice he can. Even if he’s not Junhui’s favorite person right now and Hansol was usually in charge of the customer service, that doesn’t mean Minghao needs to start unnecessary fights or lace petty tones in his words. He doesn’t need Jeonghan on his ass again.

Junhui shakes his head. “We did. It’s just….” He pauses and looks down at his hands in front of him for a second. When he looks back up at Minghao, his gaze is firm. “You didn’t edit them.”

Minghao darts his tongue out to lick his lips, only mildly letting himself wonder how Junhui could tell the difference. “I, I didn’t. Hansol did.”

“Ah,” Junhui replies, voice dipping into an odd sigh. 

Minghao chances a look at Junhui’s hands: he’s fiddling with a small USB drive. He flicks his gaze back to Junhui’s face. “Was there a problem with them?” he asks gently. 

“Not really, I—” Junhui stops and looks at Hansol again, probably hoping his questioning of Hansol’s editing wasn’t somehow offending him. Minghao also glances at Hansol, noticing how the boy is just leaning over his desk watching both of them, wide-eyed with his mouth hanging slightly open. 

Once Hansol notices them both staring at him, he scrambles to sit up in his chair, talking vague nonsense into the phone still by his ear that Minghao isn’t even sure is still connected to a person.

Junhui clears his throat, turning back to Minghao and clasping his hands behind his back again. “So there isn’t really a problem, I was just— I mean, I was more used to you editing my photos if you shoot them so I was wondering—”

“If I could do them?”

“—what happened,” Junhui says instead, voice shaky. He quickly tucks the USB back into his pocket and clears his throat again. 

“Ah, well,” Minghao says, sitting back down in his chair, “part of Hansol-ah’s job is to help me with tasks so I just… let him edit that shoot.” He watches Junhui’s face and prays the model doesn’t ask _why._ Junhui doesn’t need to know that Minghao purposely handed it off.

Junhui’s eyes stare at Minghao’s desk and he nods slowly. “I see.”

The desperate part of Minghao wants to think Junhui sounds disappointed. Minghao feels something shift in the air, he can sense that Junhui wants him to edit the photos, but Junhui also doesn’t want to outright ask for whatever reason.

“We still have the raw files on the SD card,” Minghao finds himself saying. “Since it was recent, it should still be there. I could take a look at them” _—for you,_ he almost says— “when I have time.”

Junhui looks a bit stunned before he nods, fishing the USB drive back out and passes it to Minghao. “If it’s not too much trouble.”

 _It’s not trouble if it’s for you._ Minghao looks around his desk for a sticky note, scribbles Junhui’s name on it and sticks it to the USB. 

“Ah, there are files on there already. You uh, don’t have to do all the shots from the shoot. Just the ones that I have there, if you could. They’re the ones I was focused on,” Junhui says, words getting more rushed and messy as he goes on. 

Minghao nods. “I can get this back to you by our lunch with Shua-hyung?”

Junhui nibbles on his bottom lip as he also starts nodding. “Lunch sounds good— I mean, that you can give it back to me by Shua-hyung’s lunch sounds good, thanks.” He clears his throat and turns to leave, tapping a corner of Minghao’s desk twice.

He’s not sure what comes over him when— 

“Wait, Jun-ssi!” 

Junhui stops, waits for a few seconds before he turns back around to look at Minghao. “Yeah?” He quickly tilts his chin towards him, in an ‘I’m listening’ sort of way.

Suddenly Minghao’s throat is dry again, eyes darting all over Junhui’s face while his brain scrambles for what he wanted to say. What is he doing, oh god— 

“Thanks,” Minghao manages to say, “for what you said to Mingyu at the shoot. I appreciate it.”

Junhui’s brows furrow for a split second, eyes watching him. “Well, he said he needed a video editor so—”

“No, not that,” Minghao hastily clarifies. “After.” 

_‘Thanks for taking care of Myungho,’_ that’s what he told Mingyu, that’s what Minghao means, that first small indicator before this meeting that maybe Junhui didn’t completely want their tie severed. 

Junhui stares at him for a few more seconds. “Oh.” His voice dips and Minghao can see the previous nervousness from Junhui’s eyes harden. “Right. Well….”

Minghao watches, hoping, waiting, _praying_ for Junhui to say anything else, anything he can latch onto.

“Was that everything?”

Minghao starts blinking rapidly, an old returning habit, and gulps. “I, uh, yeah, that was it,” he says, nodding. “I’ll uh, I’ll start working on those files for you soon.”

“Great, thanks.” Junhui gives a weak, squished, tight-lipped smile as he heads out. “See you.” He closes the door gently behind him.

Minghao lets out a breath, waiting for his heart rate to return to normal, and he pulls his chair close to his desk. 

“You usually don’t re-edit pictures for people, hyung.”

Oh. Right. Hansol was still there. He was there the whole time. When Minghao looks over, Hansol’s head is slightly tilted, curious, watching him.

Minghao clears his throat, slapping the sticky note from the USB on his desk while he loads the drive to his computer. “We do when they ask.”

Hansol purses his lips. “Okay, I’ll rephrase. You usually don’t _offer_ to re-edit pictures, especially from the raw files. If they ask, you usually have me do it. From the files we already sent out.”

Minghao just hums in response, looking at the pictures in the USB that Junhui wanted him to look for to edit. They’re all Junhui’s solo shots.

*****

_After he gets home from lunch with Junhui, around two in the afternoon, Minghao calls the number on the card Junhui gave him to arrange a test shoot with Lee Chan._

_Over the phone, Chan sounds bright and friendly enough, exclaims he’s been expecting his call since Junhui told him a week ago._

_Chan gives Minghao a date the following week and a location for the test shoot, informing him that he will have to do the shoot in their studio with three separate subjects; someone from the modeling department, someone from the acting department, and someone from the musical theatre department for fifteen minutes each. The last test will be various inanimate objects. The overall test is about ninety minutes. He will then be able to take the files home to edit before submitting both raw and edited files to Chan by the end of the day._

_Minghao agrees and waits for the follow-up email._

_In the meantime, he heads outside to clear his head._

_Minghao takes walks alone often, leisurely ones where he just takes pictures of anything he comes across. It relaxed him; there was no pressure for anything specific, no vision to meet, no chirpy model sending butterflies into his stomach. Except when he checks his phone and sees Junhui’s text._

‘[Thanks for having lunch with me, Xiao Hao!! Don’t worry, I told Channie to be nice to you]’ _with a smiley emoji holding a heart._

 _Minghao smiles and resists responding ‘anytime’ to Junhui’s mention of lunch. Instead he replies with_ ‘of course, hyung. And he was nice’ _and attaches a simple smiling emoji at the end._

_He also quickly replies to a text from Seungkwan before he stops by his old dance studio, where he’s greeted by a bright, “Hey, Myungho!” and a hug._

_“Hi Soonyoungie-hyung, how are classes going?”_

_Soonyoung grins. “They’re great! It’s too bad you don’t have time for us anymore,” he teases, nudging him a little._

_“Ah, speaking of that,” Minghao says, grimacing, “I’m actually going to be doing a test shoot next week to see if I could be signed to an agency, so I probably won’t be able to do any shoots for you after that.”_

_Soonyoung looks towards the ceiling and sighs dramatically. “Hah, they grow up so fast. Well, could you do some today? Come back in the evening when the class is bigger?”_

_Minghao used to take pictures of Soonyoung’s class for him to use on his website to promote his dance studio. He usually charged Soonyoung a discounted rate, mostly as a favor to his former instructor. He never told him though since he knew Soonyoung would refuse and insist on paying the actual rate._

_“Just take like, a ton so I have spares just in case, you know?” Soonyoung continues, voice exaggerated._

_Minghao nods, giggling. “Will do, hyung. As long as you get someone else to manage the files for you when I send them.”_

_Soonyoung exaggeratedly rolls his eyes, turning away. “I’ll have you know one of my students is pretty good at that computer stuff. He can do it for me.”_

_Minghao smiles. “So instead of going home and coming back, do you mind if I just hang out here and go over some dance stuff with you? For old times’ sake?”_

_Soonyoung looks him up and down suspiciously. “Hmm, if you can take all the pictures with what you have on you.”_

_Minghao ends up going home and coming back._

_+++_

_When Minghao finally gets home that evening about five hours later, after taking photos of Soonyoung’s dance class, he loads up his computer to process the images and checks his email._

_In Chan’s follow-up email, apparently sent during late afternoon, Minghao gets the specific details that the subjects he will be shooting for the test are Kim Heechul, Kim Yongsun, and Kim Sunggyu, no relation. There’s also a very specific instruction to be prompt for the first shoot. Minghao can manage that._

_He didn’t really expect Junhui to be the model he shoots from the modeling department due to possible conflict of interest, so he’s not surprised it isn’t him. He’s a little disappointed though. He notes their names down to research later._

_This time, Mingyu puts a bowl of grilled meat in front of him for dinner, along with a large soup bowl. Minghao doesn’t question it, eating quietly with hums of satisfaction, nodding and thumbs up in Mingyu’s direction._

_“So, any fun clients today?” Mingyu prods, his tone attempting to sound casual._

_Minghao shakes his head, shoving rice in his mouth. When he swallows most of the food in his mouth, he mumbles, “Just Soonyoungie-hyung.”_

_Mingyu nods and replies with an uneasy, “Oh,” and an equally unsure smile._

_They continue eating in silence like this, with Minghao particularly focused on making sure his hands or jaw is always moving, not letting there be a lull for Mingyu to sweep in and say something. He’s not sure if he wants to mention the test shoot to Mingyu yet._

_Mingyu’s eyes continue watching Minghao’s movements, himself slowly chewing but not saying anything, until, “There’s something off.”_

_“What do you mean?” Minghao asks, scooping up more soup from the large bowl._

_“I— something feels off with you. Are you hiding something?”_

_Minghao pauses for a split second, but it’s enough for Mingyu to notice as he hums, his suspicions seemingly affirmed._

_“Okay, spill, what is it?”_

_Minghao stills, putting his bowl and chopsticks down. He thinks for a bit, gnawing at his lip slightly before he decides. “That stuff you heard about Junhwi-hyung, playing with people and dropping them or whatever, where did you hear it from?”_

_Mingyu’s lips pull in a grimace, a flinch almost. He looks down at his own bowl and shakes his head. “Just… other models and stuff. Gossip circle and all, remember?”_

_“Do you have names?”_

_“What?”_

_“Names. Of the people he supposedly did all this stuff to before.”_

_“Why do you need names?”_

_Minghao shrugs. “Just curious.”_

_Mingyu tsks towards his bowl. “You’re in real deep, aren’t you?”_

_“And you’re avoiding answering me.”_

_Minghao doesn’t know why he’s pressing this hard. Maybe it was the hurt and confusion on Junhui’s face at lunch today when Minghao essentially told the model he didn’t trust him because of his roommate; maybe it was Mingyu’s growing irritability since Minghao started doing Junhui’s shoots; maybe he just wanted things to make sense._

_“Jun-hyung didn’t know what I was talking about when I mentioned it to him,” Minghao adds when he figures Mingyu isn’t going to say anything._

_“You think he would just tell you he did that stuff?”_

_“At least he answers me,” Minghao retorts, watching Mingyu and still expecting some sort of response._

_Mingyu inhales sharply through his nose and stands up, sighing as he leaves the table._

*****

Junhui makes his way back up to the seventeenth floor where Jisoo has pulled up a chair by Jeonghan’s behind his desk, chin on Jeonghan’s shoulder, and the two of them are looking at something on his computer screen. 

When he hears Junhui’s footsteps approaching, Jeonghan looks over, having to do a quick double-take. “Hey, Junnie! Did you find Myungho’s studio room okay?” he asks in a warm voice.

Junhui nods, quickly glancing at Jeonghan before tilting his chin down and focuses on not looking at Jisoo because he knows what’s coming.

“Myungho’s studio?” And there it is, Jisoo’s false-surprise voice. “What did you need to find Myungho’s studio for?” he asks, putting his elbow on Jeonghan’s shoulder and leaning forward towards Junhui.

“I wanted to ask about the editing of the pictures from the shoot,” Junhui answers, clearing his throat and straightening up his posture.

“The pictures were already edited,” Jisoo points out dryly. “Was there a problem with them?”

“Not really.”

“Then why did you go there?”

“They weren’t edited by him.”

“Does that matter?”

Junhui bites his tongue in his mouth, catching the _‘it does to me’_ before it escapes while he stares Jisoo down. The scary thing about Jisoo was that he constantly seemed to know more than you and he made sure you knew it. 

This is why throughout the years in Jinhua, Junhui had made it a practice to just tell Jisoo everything. The first time he stopped was when Junhui said _“I think we should go back to Seoul”_ , Jisoo asked why, and Junhui answered, _“Because things don’t make sense.”_ It wasn’t really a lie but Junhui isn’t sure Jisoo really believes that.

Jisoo observed Junhui and was told everything else over the years. He’s probably figured out why, probably figured out Junhui’s problem, and probably knows better than Minghao, which is also probably why he agreed and let Junhui come back. Neither just wants to say it out loud first.

“Do you really think it’s a good idea to be going there?” Jisoo continues, tone wavering between kindness and warning. “You know, considering….” 

“There’s nothing to consider,” Junhui replies, sighing exaggeratedly. “It was just that one time.”

Jisoo’s eyes are on him for a while, scanning, watching for a sign or give in Junhui’s face. But Junhui’s schooled his features for this by now, training them to not crack under Jisoo’s pressure.

“So, Junnie!” Jeonghan brightly exclaims, reminding them of his presence. “Shua was just telling me that this was all exaggerated but I thought it was real. Who’s right?” he asks, swiveling his monitor in Junhui’s direction. 

Junhui steps closer, leaning forward to inspect it. He doesn’t get a good enough look before he hears a loud exclamation of “Oh thank god, Junnie!” and is wrapped up in a side hug. 

“Oh, Seungcheollie-hyung. Good to see you too.”

Seungcheol keeps Junhui wrapped in one arm, brandishing the other, pointing. “Please don’t leave me alone with these two ever again.”

“What are you talking about, Cheollie?”

“Yeah, we were all just catching up!”

Seungcheol turns to Junhui, leans close and whispers in his ear, “Don’t believe them. They may sound innocent but they are _lying!_ I don’t know how but somehow I get roped into doing things? By both of them? Things I wouldn’t normally do? It’s just, I don’t know, they have some evil power over me or something.”

Junhui lets out a soft chuckle, patting Seungcheol on the back as he looks between Jeonghan and Jisoo’s faces, finally settling on Jeonghan’s monitor. He can’t really judge Seungcheol for feeling this way after all, he supposes he knows what it’s like.


	4. Make me open my eyes, make me dance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know if anyone's still reading this but there's a content warning for referenced sexual harassment. It's relatively minor but everyone has different sensibilities so there are #### in front of the lines that mention it. If it bothers anyone, feel free to skip over it. Thank you for understanding~
> 
> Chapter title is from Wannabe by Golden Child

Junhui glances back at Jeonghan, nodding towards his monitor. “Shua-hyung’s right. It’s exaggerated. They just pushed that for promotions at the time.”

Jeonghan pouts, turning the monitor back in place. “Oh. That’s no fun.” 

Seungcheol turns his head back and forth between Jeonghan and Junhui, confused. “What? Really? Does Myungho know?”

Jisoo raises his brow, seemingly intrigued that someone actually mentioned the elephant no one wanted to look at. 

Junhui notices both Jisoo and Jeonghan watching him carefully for his answer. “I have no idea,” he admits, sighing. He nods towards Jisoo. “We should get to hair and makeup now, right?”

Jisoo tilts his head. “You don’t have a shoot today. Just meetings.”

“I still have to look presentable for the meetings, right?” Junhui asks, starting to walk away. Eventually, he hears Jisoo’s footsteps starting to catch up to him as they wait by the elevators. 

Once they get in one, Junhui can feel Jisoo’s judgement in the air. “What? I told Jeonghannie-hyung the truth, the article was exaggerated. You know I didn’t really date in Jinhua,” he says, preemptively defending himself. 

“No, I know. I was there, I believe you,” Jisoo replies. “You told me everything back then.”

Junhui stares at the door as they fall into silence, his chest hurting for some odd reason. Maybe it’s the stabbing guilt Jisoo was the proud knife-owner of.

“Look, I know something’s bothering you and I’ve been trying not to push you, but one day, you’ll have to talk to me,” Jisoo continues. “You just stopped all of a sudden.”

“Talking about it won’t really change anything.”

“You realize you just admitted there’s something to talk about?”

Junhui scrunches his face, berating himself for falling into that again. “We both knew there was. We probably both know what it is too.”

Jisoo hums. “So are you going to talk to me about it?”

Junhui sighs. “Eventually.” 

They step out of the elevator on the sixth floor for hair and makeup. When Junhui’s in the makeup chair, getting tapped away by concealer brushes, he asks.

“[You’d tell me if I did something stupid, right?]”

Jisoo raises a brow, looking up from his phone, and meets Junhui’s eyes in the mirror. “Always. Part of my job,” he says, trying to sound comforting in the mix of playfully insulting.

Junhui pauses, thinking over what he wants to say. He was thankful that Jisoo picked up some Mandarin during their time in Jinhua. He wasn’t always confident enough to reply back in it but he was able to understand.

“[I ran into Minghao in one of the elevators yesterday. I pretty much confirmed what I already knew. He’s not exactly thrilled that I came back. He actually seemed disappointed that I did.]” 

He’s not sure what suddenly compelled him to mention it. Maybe Junhui was getting tired of the dance they were doing, both of them pretending they didn’t know something they clearly did.

Talking wasn’t going to change anything, Junhui knows that. Talking to Jisoo won’t change anything but it’s not like pretending and hiding was doing him any better. Being frustrated on his own seemed like it was getting him nowhere.

If he’s surprised, Jisoo hides it well and the most reaction he displays is widening his eyes slightly. He cautions a glance at the makeup artist to see if she reacts at all to Minghao’s name. Luckily, she continues her job like normal. 

“How did you confirm that?”

“[I asked him, he didn’t deny it. He just asked why I came back.]”

“Did you tell him?”

Junhui hums. “[No.]”

“Why not?”

Junhui lets out an exaggerated sigh. “[Because if me coming back means so little to him, then him knowing why would mean even less.]”

Jisoo’s eyes turn worried, watching him in the mirror. “And you want it to mean something?” he asks, tone filled with sympathy.

Junhui looks down. There probably isn’t a point in denying it now or acting like he doesn’t know what Jisoo’s talking about. The dance was getting old anyway. “[I did. Do you think that was stupid of me?]”

“Hoping it meant something?”

Junhui pauses. “[Yeah. And asking him at all.]”

Jisoo watches him carefully, eyes still swelled up with concern. “That’s not stupid. You wanted an answer to something and you asked for it. You don’t always get the one you want, that’s all.” 

Junhui lets out a sigh and nods.

“Hoping isn’t stupid either.” Jisoo watches him, his expression still looking strained, like he still wants to say something but he doesn’t know what. “[Are you worried he saw the articles?]”

Junhui pauses again. “[Would it really matter to him even if he did?]” he huffs, closing his eyes at the makeup artist’s nudging.

“Junnie…” Jisoo starts, and Junhui can tell by his voice that he doesn’t know what to say. “[Minghao loved you.]”

“[I know he did,]” Junhui replies quickly. “[And then he stopped.]”

Jisoo doesn’t have a response, and stops trying entirely until Junhui finishes his makeup and styling and they head towards their meeting room.

*****

_Minghao arrives at the lobby Chan specified a few minutes early, checking in with the reception who summons Chan down. His face instantly brightens when he sees Minghao._

_“Oh, hey! You’re the guy that comes by Soonyoungie-hyung’s class to take photos!” he exclaims, clapping a hand to his._

_Stunned, Minghao gapes at him and points. “You’re one of his students?”_

_“Yep!” Chan beams. “I’m the one stuck with putting them on the site for him. You’re really good, by the way, I didn’t think you were the same person Junnie-hyung told me about.”_

_Chan then leads Minghao to the studio room for him to do the test shoot, looking around at all the lights and backdrops. Chan tells him to make himself comfortable and he’ll come back when the test is done. Minghao gets his camera out and starts testing some shots out when he hears it._

_“Xiao Hao, you’re here!”_

_Minghao turns around and sees an excited Junhui bounding up to him. “Hyung, what are you…?”_

_Junhui grins, clasping his hands behind his back and leaning forward slightly. “I begged Channie to tell me where your shoot was. He says it shouldn’t be a problem since I can’t really interfere anyways. I was thinking I could just watch? You know, to support you. Is that okay or would you be more comfortable if I’m not here?” he asks in an excited rush._

_As he lets the whirlwind of Junhui’s words sink in, Minghao puffs out a relieved sigh and nods. “Yeah. Yeah, sure, I’m glad you’re here, hyung.” He looks over Junhui’s shoulder and sees Jisoo walking in, nodding in acknowledgement before taking a seat in a chair by the wall._

_Then, a man with a striking resemblance to Junhui walks in, tailed by two female staff members looking through notes._

_To Minghao’s surprise, Junhui rushes towards him. “Dad!”_

_“Son!”_

_They embrace in a wide hug and Junhui even lifts the other’s feet off the ground. This feels odd to Minghao since the other man doesn’t seem remotely old enough to have feasibly fathered Junhui._

_When he pulls back, Junhui stands beside his lookalike, holding his hand. “Xiao Hao, this is Heechullie-hyung. And this is Myungho, the photographer you’re doing the test shoot with today,” he says, smiling towards Heechul. “Thanks for doing this for him.”_

_Heechul claps a hand against Junhui’s back. “Of course! What kind of hyung would I be if I didn’t help my son when he asks? Besides, it's not like you begged me or anything.”_

_“Hyung!” Junhui whines._

_Heechul smirks, looking at Minghao for a bit before turning to Junhui. “Wait, what did you call him earlier? Is that some cute Chinese thing?” he asks in a teasing lilt, to which Junhui nods guiltily. “Oh,_ he’s _the one. Okay, it all makes sense now.”_

_Junhui yelps and lets go of Heechul’s hand, rushing back over to hide his face in the crook of Minghao’s shoulder._

_Minghao smiles at the exchange and pats Junhui’s back; they really did look alarmingly alike and they seemed pretty close._

_Heechul starts getting fussed over by the two female staff members from earlier, as they bounce rapid exchanges off each other, combs and hands adjusting hair and collars, until they rush off and Heechul claps his hands._

_“Okay! Froggie, I know my son likes you and all, but I have this thing about being on time so let’s go,” he says, pointing at Minghao. “It’s good you were early though.”_

_“Froggie?”_

_Heechul nods his chin down at Minghao’s bag slung over his shoulder, the top half of a kermit doll lazily sticking out of one of the pockets. Oh._

_Junhui lifts his head from Minghao’s shoulder and whispers in his ear, “Don’t let hyung scare you. He’s actually really nice as long as you don’t upset him first.” He offers a wide smile before he runs off in Jisoo’s direction to pull up a chair beside him to watch._

_The shoot with Heechul goes pretty smoothly. Junhui was right in that Heechul generally is pretty nice and Minghao doesn’t try to pull the ‘turn however many degrees’ trick with him. Heechul wasn’t kidding about being on time because once the fifteen minutes were up, he and the two female staff members —who Minghao figures out are both his managers— rush out, but not before a hug-filled goodbye with Junhui first._

_Next is Kim Yongsun from the acting department. She’s a pretty and petite girl with medium-length silvery blonde hair that would be hard to pull off for most people but it really suited her face._

_When she walks in, she gets a “Hi noona!” from both Jisoo and Junhui and a small wave, to which she lets out a full laugh, almost folding over into herself while walking backwards. She’s also fairly interesting in that she shares Junhui’s tendency of being super serious once the camera starts clicking but turning into a giddy giggling mess once it’s over. She’s quite friendly, sparing time afterwards to speak to Minghao and asks to play around with the kermit doll for a bit before getting pulled away by her manager._

_Last is Kim Sunggyu from musical theatre, who Minghao discovers is a bit fussy and grumpy. He’s a bit more particular to work with in that he has specific requests with his eyes, which he thinks are hard to make look good. Minghao promises he’ll do his best._

*****

“So, hyung, preparations for the first shoot are good, we can head down soon,” Hansol says, coming by Minghao’s desk. He idly picks up the sticky note from Junhui’s USB. “Why’d you write it in Chinese?”

Minghao snatches it back. “It’s easier for me to remember.”

Hansol makes a doubtful face and draws ‘Jun’ in Hangul in the air with his finger. “Isn’t that easier?”

Minghao sighs, locking his computer as he stands up. He slings an arm around Hansol’s shoulders. “You’re getting too bold. I thought I told you to stop hanging around Mingyu so much,” he jokes, leading him out.

Hansol hums, the sound almost like he’s thinking about it. Minghao thinks the subject is dropped until they get to the elevator to head to the photography room. 

“I can promise I won’t hang out with Mingyu-hyung this weekend,” Hansol says, picking the conversation back up.

“That’s specific,” Minghao notes, suspicious.

Hansol casually shrugs. “I have plans.”

“You’re not still trying to use him to get to talk to Seungkwan, are you?” 

“Didn’t you basically stop me from doing that? By telling him we don’t have to book him?”

Minghao shrinks a little. “Yes, but that was because I didn’t want him to keep calling and eventually bug Seungcheol-hyung for something he doesn’t have to be involved in.”

Hansol sighs as the elevator doors open. “It’s fine. I don’t need to do that anymore anyway,” he says as he walks out first. 

Minghao isn’t sure what that means as they get to the photography area to check the lights and equipment. 

They’re about to get started, the model —Bomin, Minghao thinks his name is?— comes in and is getting instructions from Hansol about where to stand and such. When Hansol comes back to Minghao, he’s counting SD card cases in his hands.

“Hyung, when you edit the Moon Junhwi photos, do you mind if I watch?”

Minghao quirks his head, curious. “What for?”

Hansol sighs quietly and looks up at him. “So I can learn how he likes them. If I end up editing another shoot of his, I don’t want him coming back and complaining again.” He actually sounds quite determined. Minghao isn’t sure if Hansol’s ever been bothered by something before. “I don’t mind that he didn’t like it, I just… want to know why.”

Minghao sighs softly. _You and me both._ “He wasn’t _complaining,_ he was just…” he trails off, unsure of how to finish. He doesn’t actually know what Junhui was doing. Hansol waits, lifting his brow. “He’s just kind of particular about things sometimes.”

Hansol hums, his expression clearly not satisfied but he seems to drop it for now as they get the shoot under way. 

+++

Minghao and Hansol make it back to the studio just in time for lunch. Eating at their desk was something that had become routine with them, opting to get some editing done while they eat, usually just to keep up with things. 

For the most part, it’s quiet other than the sounds of chewing and clicking around. 

“Hyung?” Hansol calls out gently.

Minghao hums in response and looks over. Hansol’s pretty much finished eating.

“Are you editing the Moon Junhwi pictures now? Can I watch?” 

Minghao hurriedly nods, wiping his mouth on a spare napkin that came with their takeout. Hansol walks his chair over to Minghao’s desk as Minghao pulls up the first of the photos Junhui wanted him to work on. 

Of the photos in his shoot with Mingyu, Junhui’s solo shots took up about forty-seven of them. Minghao walks Hansol through his editing process, it’s similar to his usual one, the one Hansol is used to, but he’s a bit more careful with this and is stopped when Hansol makes a long hum, leaning back in his chair.

“Oh, that’s it,” he says, mostly to himself. “I must’ve edited his skin too much. Got it.”

Minghao glances at him. “You did?”

Hansol nods. “I probably got carried away with trying to correct blemishes and such.”

Minghao nods, turning his head back to the screen. Right, Junhui hated when those got covered up too much, said he didn’t like the media choosing him for his looks and then changing it anyway. 

When they’re pretty much done editing the picture, in a serious tone that surprises Minghao, Hansol suddenly asks, “Hyung? Do you mind if I ask you a personal question? You can answer as vaguely as you want.” 

“Oh. Sure,” Minghao replies uneasily, turning away from his desk and bracing himself for the worst.

“I know whatever you had with Moon Junhwi was pretty serious, since Mingyu mentioned the wine and all. I was just wondering, how bad was the breakup?” 

Minghao stares, stunned. He supposes anything related to Junhui _would_ be the most personal Hansol could go. 

“I’m just asking so I know how I should act,” he says, voice a little shaky. “If I’m ever caught between you two or something.”

Minghao takes a deep breath. “The day after we broke up, he went to Jinhua. I was throwing up in a toilet.” He doesn’t know if that answers Hansol’s question, but he did say that Minghao could be as vague as he wants. Minghao thinks it paints an apt enough picture anyways.

Hansol’s expression twists sympathetically. “Do you regret it?”

That makes Minghao falter. “Where is this coming from?” he asks quietly.

“You’re my hyung too, aren’t you?” Hansol says, letting out a small chuckle. “And sometimes when I see you, you seem like you do regret it. It’s like this weird aura you have.”

“I forgot how observant you are,” Minghao teases with a snide face. He wonders if Hansol noticed that supposed aura while he was editing just now. 

Hansol shrugs, smirking. “You see a lot when you mind your own business.”

Minghao chuckles, turning back to his desk and runs his hand along the edge of it, sighing. Junhui was everything, he was laughter and safety and comfort, he was lazy days and boundless energy, he was home and where everything made sense.

Junhui was everything, that’s why Minghao hadn’t regretted breaking up with him; he loved Junhui, loved him with everything he had, and loved him enough to send him away. Because Minghao knows it was what had to happen.

“I don’t.” Minghao meets Hansol’s eyes. “To answer your question if I regret it. I don’t.” 

It was weird, saying it out loud. It was something Minghao thought about for a long time since he walked out of Junhui’s apartment that day, but he never actually said it out loud to anyone. He never even said it to Mingyu. But that was mostly because he never let Mingyu ask, always cutting him off too early or diverting the subject until he didn’t have to answer. 

Minghao isn’t sure why it’s easier saying it to Hansol but it brings back an odd feeling that swirls in the pit of his stomach. 

Hansol’s expression twists again, confused. Minghao guesses it’s because his answer didn’t line up with the vision of him that Hansol had seen. “But you still love him.” He doesn’t even bother making it sound like a question.

Minghao doesn’t know if it’s worth it to deny it. Hansol’s smart and observant, he could tell if Minghao was lying anyways. He opts not to answer.

“But if you still love him, why wouldn’t you regret it?” Hansol presses.

Minghao huffs, standing up to throw his takeout box away. “Hansol-ah, sometimes things happen and you have to adapt. Sometimes it hurts and it sucks but you learn to grow from it. It doesn’t always mean it was a mistake.”

Hansol watches him carefully. “Are you sure?”

Minghao gives a quick nod.

“What’s the thing that happened?”

Minghao sighs. “I think that’s enough personal questions for one session, don’t you?” he replies, staring at his box at the bottom of the trash bin. “You don’t have to ask Mingyu about it either since he doesn’t know. There’s a lot I never told him.” It comes out more dismissive than Minghao would have liked and he goes back to his desk to sit down.

Hansol looks conflicted, a vague image of loss blanketing his features. He nods and shuffles back to his desk.

Sure, there’s a part of Minghao that still might think he’s in love with Junhui and that's the only part of him that would regret the breakup. But that also means it’s the part of himself that Minghao doesn’t want to acknowledge. 

*****

_Three days after the employment photoshoot test, Minghao is summoned to meet Choi Seungcheol in one of the meeting rooms._

_It’s a typically-sized meeting room with a long rectangular table stretched across it with chairs laced along the edges._

_Seungcheol sits along one of the long edges and gestures for Minghao to take a seat across from him as two other men sit down along Seungcheol’s left-hand side. One slides a two file folders in front of Seungcheol and takes out a small laptop, a calm expression on his face. The other is Chan, who he met at the test shoot itself, this time wearing black half-rimmed glasses and sorting through some documents in a beige folder._

_Seungcheol smiles brightly up at Minghao. “Don’t be nervous, it’s okay. This is Jeonghan, my secretary, he’ll be taking notes for me.” He gestures to the man on his immediate left. Jeonghan gives a small coy smile and bows his head. “Then you must’ve met him earlier, Chan from HR.”_

_Chan smiles and waves as he finishes sorting his documents._

_Minghao returns the smile, relieved to see a friendly face and drums his fingers on his thigh idly, waiting for them to get started._

_Soon enough, Junhui and Jisoo enter the meeting room and sit along Minghao’s right side, with Junhui opting to side right beside Minghao._

_“So,” Seungcheol starts, “you’re the photographer that Moon Junhwi has been booking for his shoots for the past seven weeks?”_

_“Correct,” Jisoo supplies._

_Seungcheol pauses and glances over at Jeonghan who gives him a pointed look._

_“What, you want me to write that down already?”_

_“It’d be nice.”_

_Jeonghan gives a small sigh and types away._

_“Uh, I would like it on the record that Myungho-ssi contacted me first for his portfolio and then I started contacting him afterwards since I liked his work and we got along well,” Junhui interjects._

_“Noted,” Jeonghan replies, quickly flashing Junhui a fond smile._

_“Speaking of,” Seungcheol says, opening up the first file folder Jeonghan had previously put in front of him, “your portfolio is actually quite nice. Even if I ignore the submissions of Junnie.”_

_Chan decides to speak up. “When you say you got along well, what do you mean?”_

_Junhui thinks for a bit. “He was easy to work with, I experienced no problems and I liked his work. After a few bookings, I enjoyed working with him and that’s why I requested he be tested to be employed full-time here. So that it would be more convenient for me to work with him.”_

_Chan turns to Minghao. “And Myungho-ssi, do you agree? You would be alright if Junhwi-ssi asks you to be hired to mainly do photoshoots with him full-time and the rest of the employees? You would not be able to pursue any paid photography clients outside of the company.”_

_Minghao flicks his eyes to Jeonghan’s fingers to see if he’s about caught up typing. “Of course, I understand. I wouldn’t have come here if I wasn’t sure what would be required of me.”_

_Seungcheol closes the file folder of Minghao’s portfolio and opens up the second folder, likely the shots from the test shoot. He makes a small gesture with his hands for Chan to pass him something so Chan hands another piece of paper over._

_“Okay, so Chan here had quick interviews with the test shot subjects and they all seemed to agree that you were good to work with. Hyungnim even drew a frog, cute, Seungcheol muses, eyes skimming the paper._

_Minghao resists the urge to laugh._

_Seungcheol sticks it to the back of the test shot folder. “Usually we don’t take in photographers like this so you must understand this is a peculiar issue for us as well? Usually Chan is solely in charge of the hiring process.”_

_Minghao isn’t sure what he’s supposed to say and is surprised when Seungcheol turns on Junhui instead._

_“Are you sure there are no personal feelings influencing this decision?”_

_Minghao notices Junhui gulp before he answers, “We’re not romantically involved,” he says in a low voice, throwing a gesturing thumb between himself and Minghao._

_“That wasn’t the question,” Seungcheol replies firmly, folding his hands neatly in front of him and leaning forward._

_Junhui looks away, blinking quickly and presses his lips tightly together, thinking._

_Jisoo defensively puts an arm in front of Junhui at the same time that Jeonghan stops typing, eyes flickering to Junhui before turning to Seungcheol._

_“Seungcheol—”_

_“Cheollie—”_

_They end up speaking at once but Seungcheol waves them both off, focused on staring Junhui down for his answer._

_Minghao isn’t sure how to read the air other than tense and suffocating; Chan is flicking his eyes between Seungcheol and Junhui, eyes clearly worried; Jisoo’s expression is full of concern, watching Junhui’s face; Jeonghan is glaring at Seungcheol; Junhui still isn’t meeting Seungcheol’s —or anyone’s— eyes. It occurs to Minghao that he’s never seen the model so serious before, a far cry from the flighty carefree person he was used to._

_Then Minghao feels a hand suddenly grab the one he had drumming on his thigh. He looks curiously up at Junhui, who is still not looking at anyone, and holds his hand tighter._

_Junhui finally looks back at Seungcheol, eyes slightly glassy. “I trust him to do the job. He passed the test I gave him.” Junhui’s hand is squeezing Minghao’s even tighter and Minghao starts worrying it’ll get crushed. “Besides, you saw his portfolio.”_

_Minghao isn’t sure why but his first reaction is to check what Jeonghan’s response is. He figures that’s the only way he can truly understand what Junhui’s words mean._

_Jeonghan types away diligently but is watching Seungcheol warily. Chan looks even more worried as his eyes dart between Seungcheol and Junhui. Minghao can’t see Jisoo from this angle anymore but he assumes it would be the same._

_Next, Seungcheol’s large eyes are on him, staring him down and Minghao responds by refusing to break eye contact. Whatever test this is, Minghao is making sure he’s passing._

_Seungcheol closes Minghao’s test shot folder. “Okay, done. It’s unorthodox but Seo Myungho, you’re in. Welcome to the team.”_

_Jeonghan and Chan let out collective sighs of relief and Junhui’s grip on Minghao’s hand releases._

_“Chan, you have the forms for him to fill out, right?” Seungcheol adds, gesturing to him as he stands up._

_“Yep,” Chan replies happily, passing them page by page in front of Minghao. “So there’s the legal documents, the payment documents, and the company documents. Just fill those out and bring them back to my office whenever. But sooner is better than later.” He passes him a pen from his lapel pocket_

_They start standing up, meeting having supposedly been adjourned. Seungcheol leaves first and Minghao is caught up in the documents, only able to notice Junhui being ushered out of the room by Jisoo in the corner of his eye. Minghao is left in the room with Jeonghan and Chan, the former of which has closed his laptop and tucked it under his arm._

_As Minghao finishes the last form, he looks up at them. “So can I ask what that meant, I’m the only one Junhwi trusts to do the job?”_

_Chan and Jeonghan exchange glances._

_“He didn’t tell you?” Jeonghan asks, with only a slight hint of judgement._

_Minghao shakes his head._

_Chan looks down, nervous. “I’m not sure if I’m allowed to disclose that.”_

_“There was a case before involving Junnie,” Jeonghan explains, tone teetering on annoyed. “One of the previous photographers we had was uh, let’s say not the best.”_

_Minghao scrunches his face. “Meaning?”_

_##### “He was scummy,” Jeonghan firmly answers. “Sleazy, trashy, whatever you want to call it. He said weird things, took pictures at weird angles, made Junnie really uncomfortable. Eventually Junnie filed a case with Chan and we had to let the guy go, blacklist his ass, all that jazz.”_

_“Since then, Junnie-hyung’s been booking freelancers on and off and I guess ‘testing’ them, as you probably experienced. We let him do it because we didn’t want a repeat incident and we wanted him to be comfortable,” Chan finishes. “It’s unorthodox but safety first, you know?”_

_Minghao feels his stomach drop, suddenly understanding their reactions to Seungcheol’s grilling. “And Seungcheol-ssi, he knows, right?”_

_Jeonghan nods. “Yeah, but he was also making sure that Junnie wasn’t just picking you only based on a crush instead of your actual abilities,” he says, tossing his head to shake the fringe away from his eyes. “I didn’t approve of Cheollie doing that but whatever.”_

_At any other time, Minghao’s ears would have piqued at Jeonghan implying Junhui having a crush on him, but right now his worry for Junhui is overtaking it. “What was the guy’s name?”_

_Chan hums. “I don’t think I should disclose th—”_

_“Does it matter?” Jeonghan interrupts. “It’s not like you can do anything to him anyways.”_

_“No, of course not,” Minghao huffs out quietly._

_Jeonghan observes him for a few seconds. “It’s okay, we all wanted to hurt the guy. The most we could do was report him and blacklist him. It might not sound like much but…. ” He shrugs._

_Chan gleefully takes the now-signed documents back from Minghao. “So I’ll go get these sorted for you and send you the compliance training stuff as soon as your onboarding is done,” he says as he hurriedly exits the room._

_Minghao is now left with Jeonghan, who is far harder to read than Chan or Jisoo. Jeonghan is watching him, smirking, but it’s not a smile Minghao is sure he trusts._

_“Junnie must trust you a lot already, huh?” Jeonghan asks, coy._

_Minghao considers his options, ready to retort that he didn’t really need Jeonghan’s approval for anything, but there’s no point in trying to start a fight already. “I have no intentions of letting him down, if that’s what you’re worried about.”_

_Jeonghan hums as he walks out, patting his laptop. “See that you don’t,” he replies, still smirking with a glint in his eye._

_Minghao takes in the vague threat and follows Jeonghan out. They run into Jisoo and Junhui, who were apparently heading back towards the meeting room. Minghao isn’t sure what comes over him but he rushes forward, wrapping Junhui up in a hug before he knows it._

_“What? Xiao Hao, what’s wrong? I just had to get something out of my eye. Contacts, you know what I mean? Shua-hyung, tell him,” Junhui prattles from over Minghao’s shoulder._

_Minghao just hugs Junhui tighter, pressing his chin to the crook of Junhui’s shoulder. He thinks he hears Jisoo chuckle softly instead of lying like Junhui wants him to._

_“What happened? Are you just happy you got the job? You didn’t have to worry, Xiao Hao, I told you you were good,” Junhui continues cheerily prattling, returning the hug and patting his back._

_“Chan and Jeonghan-ssi told me,” Minghao mumbles against Junhui’s shirt. Junhui doesn’t respond for a few seconds. “Your case.”_

_“Ah,” Junhui says quietly, stilling his hands. “But it’s fine, Xiao Hao. Really, I’m fine.”_

_Minghao shakes his head. “Why are you trying to lie to me?” he asks softly, probably sounding more like a pouting child than anything._

_Junhui sighs and doesn’t respond for a few moments again before he says, “You can tell already, can you?” in a light, amused tone._

_“Maybe you just suck at lying, hyung.”_

_“Hey, I resent that. You said I was a great actor.”_

_Minghao giggles, sighing lightly as he pulls back and tries to scan Junhui’s eyes. “So are you okay now?”_

_Junhui chuckles. “You’re the one that tackled me. Are you okay or do we need to hug it out some more?”_

_Minghao’s hands slide down Junhui’s arms to hold his hands. “I’ll be okay if I know you’re okay.”_

_Junhui opens his mouth to respond but a different voice comes out._

_“Are they always like this?”_

_Minghao looks over and sees Jeonghan leaning against Jisoo, arm slung around his neck while Jisoo stands with his arms crossed, amused smirk on his face. Minghao actually forgot they were there. He actually thought Jeonghan left a while ago._

_“This is kinda new, but not that far from their usual if you can believe it,” Jisoo says, looking at Jeonghan._

_“Disgusting,” Jeonghan says, smirking at Junhui. “And you really told Cheollie you’re not dating.”_

_Junhui quickly shakes his head. “We’re not.”_

_Jeonghan seems skeptical and looks at Jisoo._

_“They’re not,” Jisoo confirms. “Trust me, I would know.”_

_Jeonghan looks over at Minghao, apparently still not convinced, and Minghao responds with a pointed look and a head shake. Jeonghan seems to mull this over, but drops it and heads back to his desk._

*****

On the weekend, Hansol goes to Seungkwan’s building. 

They’d agreed to meet early in the afternoon to make good on Seungkwan’s offer to show him Moon Junhwi’s work. It was fine with Hansol since he had to do some chores and run some errands for his sister first anyway. He texts Seungkwan that he’s in the building entrance and buzzes his door. 

As he waits, Hansol thinks about how he thought he’d be more worried about spending time with Seungkwan after so long of basically being bare acquaintances but he’s pretty at ease. After his talk with Myungho while editing Moon Junhwi’s picture, he thinks spending time with Seungkwan is nothing compared to whatever Myungho has going on. It takes the worry off him, even if he might have a crush on Seungkwan.

Seungkwan rushes down to collect him and brings him up to his apartment. He moves his hand around the apartment in a grand gesture while Hansol removes his shoes. “Well, this is the place. My roommate is out for the day so we have the place to ourselves. Take a seat in the living room, I’ll be there soon,” he says brightly before shuffling off to another room.

The place is pretty spacious, walls white and neatly decorated, and otherwise well-kept other than a few things on the floor here and there. Like assorted toys and slippers, including a pair with tiger print. On his way towards the sofa, Hansol hears scuffling on the floor and something brushes his leg. 

“Bookkeu, no!” 

Hansol sees Seungkwan walking over, holding two glasses of juice and focusing on where to put his feet. Hansol gestures to pass the glasses to him while Seungkwan bends down to pick up the small, white dog jumping at Hansol’s leg. 

“Sorry, I’m watching him for my sister this weekend,” Seungkwan says, bouncing the dog in his arms like it’s a baby. “I tried to keep him in one of the rooms but I guess you escaped, didn’t you?” he coos, bringing his face close to Bookkeu’s.

Hansol chuckles as he watches them. “I guess I’ll just put these on the table?” he says, nodding towards the coffee table in the living room.

Seungkwan nods and tries to carry the dog down the hall to a room somewhere Hansol doesn’t see. He just takes a seat on the sofa and waits. But soon the scampering noises return and Hansol sees the small white fluff bundle bounding towards him again. Seungkwan races back in as Bookeu jumps in Hansol’s lap.

“I am so sorry about him. Bookkeu, stop!” he reprimands, trying to grab him. “He’s just excited about seeing people.”

Hansol laughs. “No, it’s fine. He can watch with us.” He pauses. “We are _watching_ something, aren’t we?”

Seungkwan nods, nodding towards the TV. “Yep, I’ve already got them loaded there.” He takes a seat beside Hansol, still holding Bookkeu like a baby in his lap. “I didn’t know if we should go chronological order or which ones I like best.”

“You really put a lot of thought into this,” Hansol notes, chuckling. 

“Of course! Do you think I’m a bad host or something?” Seungkwan nods his chin towards the glasses of juice Hansol had to put on the table. “I even prepared hallabong juice!” he says proudly. 

Hansol tries to keep his lips tight together to keep from laughing at how cute everything Seungkwan did was. “That’s so thoughtful, thanks. And uh, we can go in chronological order. For the Moon Junhwi stuff. Probably easier for you to explain, right?”

Seungkwan nods and when he moves forward to grab the remote, Hansol leans back, outstretching his arm along the back of the couch. While he’s focused on the remote, Seungkwan leans back, his head on Hansol’s arm. Hansol isn’t sure if he hasn’t noticed or doesn’t mind but he hopes it’s the latter.

“So this is the first one,” Seungkwan mutters, clicking play. “There’s like twenty-six episodes.”

After the first three episodes, Seungkwan has let Bookkeu go, the maltese deciding he wants to lay on the floor instead. Throughout these forty-five minute episodes, Hansol has noticed that Seungkwan frantically taps his feet on the floor when certain characters are talking to each other, that Seungkwan makes happy little humming sounds whenever something cute happens, and that Seungkwan excitedly slaps away at Hansol’s knee whenever something dramatic is about to happen, making sure the other boy is looking at the screen. 

Sometimes he is, sometimes Hansol thinks that watching Seungkwan get so purely excited is more fascinating to look at. 

“Wait— there!” Seungkwan exclaims, quickly patting Hansol’s leg again and pointing, bouncing a little in his seat. “There’s Junhwi-ssi!” he says, like he hasn’t been pointing him out to Hansol every time Junhwi did show up.

Hansol smiles as he takes in all of Seungkwan’s energy, still watching him. 

Somehow, his conversation with Myungho slips back in his head. There was something about the way Myungho looked when he talked about Junhwi that clawed its way into Hansol’s brain and sat there. 

In the time he’s known Myungho, Hansol saw that he always maintained a cool, rigid, professional front with everyone, kept everyone at a distance. The first time Hansol thought he saw it crack was when he told Myungho, “Moon Junhwi is back.”

Moon Junhwi was clearly a very important person to Myungho; the way Hansol’s seen him talk about him and to him is evidence enough of that, no matter how much Myungho tries to convince them both otherwise. There’s a sort of sadness and longing there underneath an unmistakable fondness Hansol had never seen that is so far from the Myungho he knows that it somehow sticks with him.

And when Hansol looks at Seungkwan, he wonders a few things. He wonders if this is how Myungho felt when he looked at Junhwi back then. He wonders if this is how Myungho feels when he looks at Junhwi now. He wonders if he could fall for Seungkwan and not regret parting like Myungho was with Junhwi. He also wonders if he’s in way over his head.

“Hansol! You’re not looking!” Seungkwan scolds, sitting up and pouting. 

Hansol chuckles as he sits up too, glancing at the screen only to see it paused. “Yeah, I am! I’m just thinking!”

“About?”

Hansol tilts his chin down, looking up at Seungkwan. “Moon Junhwi?” he says quickly, coy.

Seungkwan scoffs, leaning back against Hansol’s arm. “And yet you’re not looking when I’m trying to show you his work? Rude.”

“No, I meant…” Hansol replies, voice drifting off. _The one Myungho-hyung knew._

Seungkwan looks over, side-eying him. “Is it that stuff you can’t tell me?”

Hansol makes an apologetic face. “Kind of. Hey, if Mingyu-hyung ever does a brand deal with Junhwi-ssi again, can you tell me?”

Seungkwan arches a brow. “That’s pretty specific. Why?”

Because Hansol’s done far too much observing on his own and it’s going to drive him crazy. If Mingyu does a shoot with Junhwi, Seungkwan will be there too. Hansol grabs his glass of hallabong juice and starts drinking.

“Hansol, I thought we were friends! Friends don’t keep secrets!” 

Hansol lets out a relieved exhale as he pulls the glass away. “I also can’t go spilling other people’s secrets. This is good juice, by the way.”

Seungkwan eyes him suspiciously and sighs through his nose. “Fine, I’ll tell you if Mingyu-hyung ever gets a deal with Junhwi-ssi. But you better tell me everything soon.”

Hansol holds a hand up. “I promise,” he swears, earning another scoff from Seungkwan as he presses play again. It’s a weird promise to make and Hansol hopes he doesn’t have to keep it. Instead, he hopes that Seungkwan will be able to see everything for himself soon.

Near the end of the fifth episode, Seungkwan is near tears and Hansol gets distracted by something. 

“Wait, what’s that song?”

Seungkwan sniffles, eyes still glued to the screen. “That’s the character’s theme song. Why, you like it? I can send it to you if you want.”

Hansol nods distractedly. “Yeah, please.” He’s not sure why but the jazzy R&B tune seems familiar to him, even under the characters dramatically yelling at each other. Soon, the character that Junhwi’s is arguing with runs away crying and the music swells. 

Hansol definitely thinks he’s heard it before.

*****

_After being hired, Minghao gets invited to go drinking with Junhui’s, and now his boss, Seungcheol, despite Chan saying the onboarding would be finished next week._

_Minghao quickly texts Mingyu saying he’ll be out late so he won’t be eating dinner and that he has some news when he gets home._

_By the time he gets to the table they’ve seemed to have reserved at one of the bars, he sees Seungcheol sitting between Jeonghan and a woman with dark wavy hair gathered on one side over her left shoulder. Minghao rattles his brain a bit trying to place her face before it clicks._

_“Ahn Hyejin?!” he asks in shock, sitting down beside Junhui, across from her and Seungcheol._

_“Yes?” she answers in a polite, light voice, squinting a bit. She looks him up and down. “Wait, you’re Seungcheol-ah’s new hire? Weren’t you taking pictures for Soonyoungie?”_

_Minghao leans back, gasping. So that’s why he thought he recognized her face when he first looked her up. “Oh, you’re in Soonyoungie-hyung’s class, that’s right!”_

_Hyejin quirks her head to the side, curious. “Yes? How else did you know me?”_

_Minghao quickly glances at Junhui, who figures out Minghao’s realization and covers his mouth to hide his laugh._

_“You’re Ahn Hyejin with the pet allergy, right?” Minghao gently asks to clarify. From Seungcheol’s side, Minghao spots Jeonghan failing to suppress a sputtered laugh, turning away._

_“How did you—?” Hyejin seems to contemplate something before her face turns red and she covers her face with her hands and groans into her palms. She quickly recovers and turns on Junhui. “You told that story again?!”_

_Junhui edges back, still laughing. “Yes, but okay, noona… look at the bright side, he passed,” he says, gesturing in Minghao’s direction. “You said it was okay!”_

_Hyejin leans her elbows on the table and holds her head near the hairline, staring down into her glass and taking deep breaths. Seungcheol laughs and pats her shoulder comfortingly. Before long, she quickly recovers again, taking a deep inhale towards the ceiling._

_“It’s fine, I’m fine,” she says, voice still twinged with stress. “I did say it was okay but it’s still embarrassing! You’re lucky we’re friends and I love you guys.” She points a finger between Jeonghan, Junhui and Seungcheol._

_Junhui grins. “Love you too, noona,” he replies, raising his glass which she clinks hers against with a smirk._

_Minghao feels his chest thump watching them. Junhui looks over at him and smiles before he gets pulled into a conversation on his other side._

_Minghao spends most of the evening observing; most everyone is quite friendly and rowdy with each other. Notably, Jisoo sits at an angle behind Jeonghan, sipping on water with only the occasional swig of beer._

_Eventually, another petite girl with dark hair tied up in a bun arrives, to which Hyejin makes a loud exclamation and holds her arms out towards her like she wants a hug. The girl giggles and takes a seat beside Hyejin, forcing the previous person to scooch over and leans her head on Hyejin’s shoulder._

_“So,” Hyejin starts, watching Minghao, “you must be pretty special.”_

_Minghao chuckles. “How so?”_

_Hyejin shrugs. “Jun tells the story in parts, right? Most people don’t get to the ending,” she replies, taking a swig. “Usually they get as far as ‘her name is Hyejin’ and then Han Hyejin will message me saying she got a message from some random person thinking she cried.”_

_Minghao must’ve made a weird expression because Hyejin laughs and waves a hand up and down._

_“It’s fine, it’s like a joke we have now,” she reassures._

_The girl leaning her head on Hyejin’s shoulder looks between them before she asks, “Oh, he knows about that story too?” she asks, cackling enough to throw her head back when Hyejin gives a shy nod._

_“So you know Jun-hyung tells that story and you said it’s okay…” Minghao wonders aloud, looking between them._

_Hyejin eyes him warily. “I let him tell that story because I know how important it is for him.” She pauses and chuckles to herself. “Sure, it’s embarrassing, but it makes him feel safer. And it helps him weed out weirdos.”_

_Minghao smiles. “Thank you. You’re a good friend to him.”_

_Hyejin scoffs from the back of her throat. “And don’t you forget it, kid,” she replies with a smirk, taking another swig._

_Minghao chuckles at that, how protective over Junhui it feels, how it was almost on par with Jeonghan’s level of subtly threatening him. Minghao gets distracted from whatever retort he was going to say when he feels a weight on his right shoulder._

_When he checks, Junhui’s head has landed there, shifting around trying to make itself comfortable. Minghao looks around and catches Jisoo’s eye who quickly notices and stands up, mouth moving in what Minghao assumes are words of goodbye to Jeonghan and Seungcheol._

_Minghao helps Jisoo bring Junhui to the car._

_“So you finally met Hyejin-ah,” Jisoo says as they leave the bar, keeping his voice light._

_“Yeah, she’s… nice. Shua-hyung, you know about Hyejin-ssi and the case, right?” Minghao asks, hoping the question doesn’t sound as stupid as he thinks._

_“I’d be a pretty bad manager if I didn’t,” he replies, chuckling._

_Minghao lets out a defeated sigh and forces a squished smile._

_“Sorry, that sounded sarcastic, but yes, I do,” Jisoo admits, still chuckling. “What’s your question?” he asks, getting Junhui to the car and buckling him in._

_“How come you never threatened me like Jeonghan-ssi or Hyejin-ssi did?”_

_Jisoo’s expression softens, letting out a fond sort of sigh through his nose. He doesn’t seem surprised, even mutters “of course they did” under his breath, and gestures for Minghao to get in the car beside Junhui. “Let me drive you back. I’ll need help lugging Junnie to his apartment anyways.”_

_After some thought, Minghao nods, sliding in the car beside Junhui and even gently leads his head to lean back on his shoulder._

_Once they’re out of the parking lot, Jisoo glances at Minghao in the rearview mirror. “So Jeonghannie and Hyejin-ah threatened you, did they?”_

_Minghao hums. “In not so many words. The basic impression I got was ‘Junnie must trust you a lot to let you get this far so if you mess up or hurt him, I will end you’,” he replies, doing a higher-pitched mock voice._

_Minghao looks down at Junhui’s head on his shoulder. Once he says it out loud, it starts sinking in how the things that Minghao thought were casual everyday occurrences for Junhui were actually very likely a big deal, based on the reactions of those around him._

_Jisoo hums. “Sounds like something they’d say. I’d say don’t worry but Jeonghan’s the one you need to watch out for, if anything,” he replies, tapping idly on the steering wheel. “But to answer your question, I never felt the need to do that because I saw for myself how you were with him. I know you wouldn’t hurt him for sport. I felt like you’d throw yourself under the bus before you’d let it hit Junnie.”_

_Minghao feels his face flush and looks down._

_“If it matters to you, I approve. Like I said, I’ve seen how you are together. It’s really cute and Junnie seems really happy.”_

_Minghao gulps and glances at the rearview mirror but Jisoo’s not looking. “Am I that obvious?”_

_“Oh, your little crush? No, not at all.” Jisoo laughs, but it carries no hint of mockery. “And we’re here.”_

_Minghao helps Jisoo bring Junhui back up to his apartment, turning away when Jisoo punches in Junhui’s apartment code. He also takes up Jisoo’s offer of letting him drive him home too._

_+++_

_As he’s climbing up the stairs of his building to go home, Minghao suddenly gets a text from Seungkwan._

‘Hi Myungho-hyung! I know you told me not to but Mingyu-hyung is really insisting on trying to book you for a shoot he’s having next week. The full schedule excuse stopped working. What do you want me to tell him?’

_Minghao frowns at this, tucking his phone away as he taps the passcode to his apartment. “Mingyu!” he calls as soon as he steps in, quickly toeing off his shoes._

_“In the kitchen!”_

_Minghao rounds the corner and sees Mingyu standing over the sink, back to him, scrubbing away at some dishes, presumably the pots he used to cook dinner. “Did you ask Seungkwannie to book me for a shoot you’re having next week?”_

_Mingyu’s arm pauses for a second. “Yeah, uh, is that okay?” He actually sounds really nervous and Minghao doesn’t know what to do with this._

_“I mean,” he sighs, pushing his hair back, “I appreciate you thinking of me but I can’t, even if I wanted to. I signed a contract with Junhwi’s company today, I’m not freelance anymore, they hired me full-time. That’s what I was coming home to tell you.”_

_“Oh,” Mingyu replies, tone flat and starts scrubbing harder, but Minghao could just be imagining things. “That’s great, congratulations.”_

_Minghao pouts, coming up to pat Mingyu’s back. “Sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. I didn’t wanna say anything until it was a sure thing, you know?”_

_“Y-yeah.”_

_“I think it’ll be good though. More steady income so I could help around here some more,” Minghao prattles, shrugging his jacket off._

_Mingyu nods. “Oh, yeah, that’s great.”_

_“But if you still need a photographer for your shoot, I could recommend someone else if you want? Make a list and send it to Seungkwan?” Minghao offers, walking over to his room to put his bags away._

_“No, it’s okay.”_

_“Oh, do you already have backups in mind?” Minghao asks, grabbing a water bottle from beside the fridge._

_“I, uh, Seungkwannie can figure it out. He’s good at that,” Mingyu replies plainly, laying the last dish in the drying rack_

_Minghao nods, taking a sip of water and walking back to his room to lay down. He takes out his phone to reply to Seungkwan._

‘No need, Seungkwan-ah, I already talked to him. Thanks’

_He tosses his phone on a spot somewhere beside him on the bed and closes his eyes._

*****

The next week goes by relatively normally for Minghao. The days become a blur of shoots, photo editing and more shoots. Minghao still tries to squeeze in time to edit Junhui’s photos, which Hansol doesn’t ask to watch the rest of the processes for. Minghao still catches him peeking at his screen sometimes though. 

One thing he notices, however, is that Hansol has stopped asking if they need to book Mingyu for anything. It wouldn’t be that strange if Hansol hadn’t been constantly asking for months until this point. Minghao doesn’t try to prompt it in fear of starting it up again but he does find it peculiar. 

Another thing Minghao notices is that, although they haven’t had any shoots together, he thinks he’s constantly spotting Junhui somewhere off in a corner of his eye, a moon destined to orbit around his world. 

It was one of those things Minghao forgot that he missed, being able to turn around and find Junhui in his space, share his air. Minghao thought it would never happen again and, in a weird way, there is some kind of excitement in having that again, despite how hard it’s been to read Junhui lately. The way his smile fades off if he meets Minghao’s eyes or the way his posture stiffens when he senses Minghao walk by, as if to say he can no longer relax with Minghao around. Maybe he _should_ tell Junhui why he didn’t expect him to come back, as much ire as it would earn him.

Before Minghao knows it, his email sends a reminder for Jisoo’s lunch coming up in ten minutes. Hansol gets a similar one and nods at Minghao, saying he has a few things he has to take care of, mostly customer service stuff with managers in other departments, and he’ll just catch up.

Nodding, Minghao makes his way down to the lobby and spots Junhui waiting in one of the couches, eyes focused on idly scrolling through his phone. 

Minghao gulps and makes his way over. “Hey.”

Junhui looks up. “Oh! Hey.” He makes a quick glance between Minghao and his phone before he rushes to tuck it away and stands up to greet him. 

Minghao takes the USB out from his pocket, holding it out. “I was able to finish editing the photos you wanted. Just like I promised.” He offers a sincere smile, hoping it’s enough.

“Thank you.” Junhui takes it with a small relieved sigh. “I wasn’t aware you promised,” he says curiously.

“It was implied,” Minghao replies, smiling, and hopes the teasing in his voice is apparent. 

Junhui stares at the USB in his hands, rotating it around a few times. “And you keep all your promises, don’t you,” he says quietly, the tone almost wistful. Minghao wonders if Junhui’s musing to himself or if he’s supposed to answer.

“[Junhui—]” 

“I wanted to ask something,” Junhui says forcefully, pocketing the USB and taking Minghao by surprise.

“Oh, um, sure,” Minghao says, suddenly getting a dreadful feeling of deja vu washing over him. 

Junhui’s eyes shift down as he mulls it over, gathering himself. Minghao is surprised when Junhui pushes up on his toes and clasps his hands behind his back, the motion triggering a different sense of deja vu and his chest tightens. 

When Junhui’s heels hit the floor again, his eyes are back on Minghao, wide, sparkling and hopeful, matching his voice when he asks, “When I left those three years ago, did you ever regret it?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bookkeu isn't part of the plot, he's just there :)  
> Anyways if anyone's still reading this, updates might be slower due to some medical problems. I'm also trying to overhaul the upcoming chapters since I'm a bit worried about them. I'll probably do a whole-flashback chapter at some point just to get stuff out of the way. hope that's okay! thanks for understanding~!


	5. Look, I'm fair with everyone else but you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope I didn't mislead anyone into thinking I have everything written out already because I don't lmao I only have 70% of the flashbacks done and like ... 25% of the present timeline? (and it's not even in order). I'm mostly writing the present timeline as I go. Thank you for your patience~
> 
> Text in [square brackets] are still in Mandarin. Text in {curled brackets} are in English because Network Love line rights.
> 
> Chapter title is from Hold Me Tight by BTS

_During Minghao’s first shoot as an official employee, he gets booked to shoot a brand deal for Junhui. He learns his way around the photography studio setup they have and he spots Jisoo off to the side as usual as Junhui comes in._

_For this shoot, Junhui acts a bit like he did during their third booking, a bit more aloof and coy. Minghao doesn’t know what to make of this but he’s tempted to get out his speakers and blast jazz music again._

_Near the end of this shoot, Minghao approaches Junhui._

_“Hyung! So I was thinking… you said you wanted me to ask you out before so,” Minghao starts, heart thumping in his ears. “Do you want to go on a date with me on Saturday?”_

_“Huh?” Junhui asks, voice high as he tilts his head to the side. “Oh! No, no, Xiao Hao, not yet. It’s still too early, remember?” He smiles, patting Minghao’s shoulder twice, and then cheerfully bounds off before Minghao can respond, let alone process what he means._

_Minghao would be lying if he said he wasn’t feeling at least a little dejected._

_+++_

_Three days later, Minghao is booked to shoot for Junhui for a clothing deal._

_Junhui is in higher spirits this time, more resembling the Junhui Minghao had gotten accustomed to._

_As they wrap this shoot, Junhui excitedly rushes up towards Minghao going over his shots in the camera, looking expectant._

_“What is it, hyung?” Minghao asks, hoping his voice fully carries his annoyance, pointedly not looking up at him._

_Junhui grins, bouncing up and down on his toes. “C’mon, you gotta ask now.”_

_“Ask what?”_

_“Aren’t you gonna ask me out?”_

_Minghao scoffs. “Why? So you can turn me down again?”_

_“What?” Junhui pouts, flicking his arm to check his bare wrist. “Now it’s been three bookings since you said you’d ask me out, so I promise I’ll say yes this time.”_

_Minghao turns to him, rolling his eyes. “You were actually keeping track?”_

_“Yes!” Junhui replies proudly. “You gotta be a man of your word, Xiao Hao. If you say three bookings, I’ll hold you to three. And not a booking too soon.” He eagerly attempts his wink again. “And yes, I’m counting the test shoot with Channie as a booking because I helped orchestrate it.”_

_Despite his efforts to keep it down, a laugh bubbles through Minghao. “Thanks for keeping me honest, hyung.”_

_“No problem!” Junhui chirps as he clasps his hands behind his back and presses forward on his toes. “So?”_

_Minghao theatrically rolls his eyes, unable to hide his smile as he asks in a dry tone, “Jun-hyung, would you like to go on a date with me this weekend?”_

_Junhui gasps, feigning surprise as he claps his hands together in front of him. “Why, Xiao Hao, I had no idea!”_

_Minghao closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, praying for patience. Then he feels something warm and slightly wet quickly press against his cheek. When he looks, Junhui’s smiling at him._

_“Yes, I would love to go on a date with you.” He grabs Minghao’s hand and starts swinging it back and forth, giggling._

*****

Junhui clasps his hands behind his back and presses up on his toes. When he looks at Minghao, his eyes are wide, sparkling and hopeful. “When I left those three years ago, did you ever regret it?”

Minghao stares back, blood running cold. After talking about it with Hansol last week, he didn’t think he’d have to answer that question again. He thought it would just circle in his head forever, just his and Hansol’s ugly little secret. Why did Junhui have to ask that now?

In his heart, Minghao already knows he doesn’t regret ending things, he doesn’t regret breaking up with Junhui, and he doesn't regret that Junhui left and went to Jinhua; he knows he did the right thing. He knew that when he told Hansol and he knew that when he walked out of Junhui’s apartment.

Minghao knows that and he thought Junhui would realize it eventually, after enough time had passed. But it seems that he still doesn’t, he doesn’t realize anything. He’s still blind, circling around in regret and chasing something he doesn’t notice would destroy him. 

Minghao looks away. “I don’t think you should ask questions you don’t actually want the answers to.”

“I really do though. I need to know.”

Minghao briefly tightens his eyes shut and takes a breath, steeling himself, before he returns his eyes to Junhui’s. “[Junhui, I never regretted it. Not once.]” 

The hopeful expression on Junhui’s face vanishes, his eyes flickering between hurt and betrayal before settling into disgust and his arms drop by his sides. Minghao knows that any favorable image that Junhui might have had of him has now shattered, and likely not for the first time. Minghao wants to hate Junhui for making him do that, for bringing him back to that place and making him hurt him again.

The silence between them grows ugly and heavy again, air filled with memories of everything they once were and Minghao’s chest tightens. He starts feeling like he’s being strangled. 

“[Jun—]”

“Oh good, you’re both here!” Jisoo calls, walking up to them and waving. “Now we’re just waiting for Hansol.” 

Right on cue, Hansol jogs up from the elevators. His smile is bright, like Jisoo’s, both seemingly oblivious to the air around them. “Hey hyung! Hope I’m not late,” he says, looking between their faces.

Junhui sneers one more time at Minghao. “You’re not. Let’s go, Myungho-ssi.” He shoves past him to go over to Hansol, smiling as he slings an arm over his shoulders. 

Hansol’s head darts around, confused, as he gets dragged off. Junhui also pointedly ignores Jisoo as he passes, focused only on pulling Hansol out the door.

Jisoo just stares at Minghao, almost as if to ask what happened. Instead, he nods for him to come along.

Minghao’s chest tightens again. He nods, forcing himself to take a breath as he follows alongside Jisoo. He knows he did the right thing. It had to have been. 

*****

_Minghao panics when he realizes he has to plan his date with Junhui._

_He asked him so he has to be the one with a plan, right? He wonders if going to get hotpot and wandering a park could count as a date. Would Junhui think that’s lame? He goes for it anyway. He brings one of his smaller cameras just in case, thinking he could probably get some shots of Junhui at the park later._

_He goes to his closet, pulls out a grey graphic t-shirt, a dark denim jacket and black pants._

_“Mingyu, I’m going out!” he calls, slipping his shoes on._

_“Oh, you’re going on another walk?” Mingyu’s voice calls from his room. “Sure, be safe!”_

_Minghao pauses and makes a weak noise of acknowledgement as he closes the door behind him. He quickly shakes his head and texts Junhui an address of where to meet him._

_Junhui shows up to the date wearing another hoodie, red this time, and a black mask to hide his face and simple black jeans. He ducks his head as he approaches, embarrassed. “I have to hide to avoid being recognized, sorry. I would have dressed cute, I swear!” he protests, lowering his mask and pouting slightly._

_Minghao purses his lips, looking up at him. “Cute like how?”_

_“Um, white t-shirt and denim jacket?” Junhui offers nervously._

_Minghao squints, making a show of thinking it over. “Hm, I_ guess _that’ll pass.”_

_Junhui grins, rubbing his hands together. “Oh, thank you, fashion guru, Xiao Hao,” he says exaggeratedly._

_Minghao gives an appreciative tight-lipped smile and pulls out his phone to look over his list of hotpot restaurants. He picks one in between some small alley streets that aren’t as densely populated._

_Once they're seated, Junhui leans his elbow on the table, sitting his chin in his hand, smiling. “So, Xiao Hao, tell me,” he starts, voice light, “how did you get into photography?”_

_Minghao is a bit taken aback, blinking. “Huh? Oh, uh, I just liked the art of it,” he answers simply._

_Junhui is still watching him expectantly, smiling, waiting for him to continue._

_“Like, capturing moments, being able to bring out different sides of people and scenery and everyday things. There’s so many different ways of seeing everything and being able to share your view of things with people, letting them see the world like you see it,” he rambles, not used to answering that question. He nervously checks Junhui’s expression; he’s still just staring at him. “Sorry, I know that sounds—”_

_“No, that’s cool!” Junhui eagerly objects. “You really do like it a lot. Do you have shots that didn’t make it into your portfolio?”_

_Minghao nods._

_“Would you let me see them?” he asks, eyes sparkling as he leans forward over the table. “Ooh, do you have other artsy stuff that you do that I can see?”_

_Minghao just stares at him, speechless. There’s a warm feeling blossoming in his chest. It’s pleasant and bubbly, it reminds Minghao of pink cherry blossom trees. He wants to hold onto it._

_Junhui quickly backs up, covering his mouth while he giggles a bit. “No wait, you don’t have to show me if you don’t want to. I just got excited, sorry.” He shrinks into himself in what Minghao considers a cute fluster of embarrassment._

_It’s weird because Minghao does want to. He doesn’t usually show people, mostly because people don’t really ask and usually because he doesn’t want to that often. But he does want to show Junhui. “No, it’s okay. I’m just wondering why.”_

_Junhui looks just as curious. “I… want to learn about the things that are important to you.” He says it like it’s so obvious, like Minghao should have known all along, like he didn’t just cause the butterflies in Minghao’s stomach to start a full-on rave in there, crashing into each other, getting drunk and creating more butterfly babies_

_Minghao forces himself to take a breath and keep himself composed in front of Junhui, nodding. “I’ll definitely show you.”_

_Junhui sighs in relief and grins. “I can’t wait to see them then, whenever you want.”_

_Throughout their stay at the restaurant, Minghao tries to take several pictures of Junhui, promising it’s just for his personal collection when Junhui jokingly objects that he didn’t wear a mask and hoodie to hide for nothing._

_When they leave the restaurant, Minghao leads them through the small alley streets just behind it, passing by dark, closed shops. Junhui asks if it would be okay to just walk around and stay in minor areas since he’s still worried about being spotted, which he promises to make up for next time. Minghao agrees at the promise of a next time, forcing him to forgo his park plan._

_On their walk, Junhui keeps telling weird jokes and trying to impersonate cartoon characters. Meanwhile, Minghao keeps humming noises of acknowledgement even though he isn’t really paying attention, his mind too distracted by one thing._

_“Hyung,” Minghao says suddenly. He stops walking and tugs on Junhui’s hand to get him to turn him around. Once Junhui’s facing him, Minghao leans forward, fluttering his eyes closed as he presses a quick, soft peck at the corner of Junhui’s mouth._

_When Minghao backs up, Junhui’s just staring at him, face blank, blinking away. Minghao starts panicking, wondering if he somehow misread all the signs until now. Maybe he was too forward, too fast, too reckless._

_Why isn’t Junhui responding? Unless…._

_“Sorry.” He turns away and starts shaking his head, thinking about what an idiot he is and all the ‘I told you so’s that Mingyu’s definitely going to beat into his ear when he gets home. He starts walking away._

_Junhui manages to catch Minghao’s arm before he gets too far. “[Xiao Hao?]” he asks curiously, head tilting._

_Minghao takes a deep inhale. Might as well. “[I think I have a crush on you,]” he says boldly, holding his gaze. “[But it’s totally fine, it’s okay and—]”_

_“[You_ think _you have a crush on me?]” Junhui cuts in to clarify, eyes a little sad._

_“[Yeah. I mean, no, I don’t think I do but yes, I’m pretty sure I do. I have a crush on you,]” Minghao corrects quickly._

_Junhui clicks his tongue and dips his head down, shaking his head. “[Oh no, Xiao Hao. No, no, no, this won’t do.]”_

_“[Junhui?]” Minghao’s heart is beating too fast. He’s not fully tearing up yet but his eyes are stinging enough that he thinks he might get there. He needs Junhui to let go of him so he can continue his escape plan._

_A bunch of thoughts start filling Minghao’s head again, like how often this must happen to Junhui, how people probably fall for Junhui all the time, how many awkward-ass confessions Junhui must have to regularly turn down. He thinks about whether he should have listened to Mingyu._

_When he lifts his head, Junhui’s expression resembles an overdramatic actor in pain as he sighs towards the sky. “[Hah, what am I going to do, Xiao Hao? I like you a lot and you_ only _have a crush on me?]” But then again, Junhui_ is _an overdramatic actor. He walks closer and wraps Minghao up in a hug. “What am I going to do?”_

_Minghao lets out a relieved breath and starts giggling, swatting at Junhui’s back. “I like you a lot too, hyung. Don’t scare me like that!”_

_Junhui responds with a bright smile before he leans down to properly press their lips together. Their first kiss is out in the middle of some small alley streets, in front of some closed shops but Minghao still thinks it’s perfect, if the feeling in his chest is anything to go by._

_When Junhui pulls back, he hugs Minghao again, one hand cradling the back of Minghao’s head. “You think I could reject you when you’re so cute? After all the work I put in trying to talk to you? Tch, please,” he mumbles over Minghao’s shoulder._

_Minghao giggles softly to himself, letting himself relax in Junhui’s embrace._

*****

Hansol smiles nervously at Jisoo across the table. Jisoo had said that he and Junhwi hadn’t had Korean food in a while and asked that Hansol and Myungho recommend a place. 

That’s how Hansol led them to a nearby family-owned restaurant that he knows that’s known for pork bone soup because he’s in the mood for some and is a little selfish right now. 

When they were brought to a table, Junhwi had called out “I want to sit with Hansollie!” and pulled him to sit with him. Hansol looked over to see if that was okay but the manager just let Junhwi do what he wanted. 

Hansol looks over at Myungho, somehow stuck sitting across Junhwi, and wonders if he’ll be okay. His brow has been furrowed for a while but his face looks troubled, a bit like he did that day they were shooting for the musical theatre actors. 

Throughout the lunch, Hansol notices that Junhwi spends a lot of time talking to him, asking what his job tasks are, asking the meaning of the characters in his name, asking how big his family is, various conversational questions. 

After a while, Hansol realizes that Junhwi’s mainly doing this to avoid talking to Myungho. And asking Jisoo any questions would make less sense since they spent almost all their time together. 

It’s a bit tragic because Myungho keeps watching Junhwi like he’s waiting, hoping for a lull in conversation, _something._ It’s that side of Myungho that Hansol isn’t used to seeing. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen Myungho seem so desperate for someone else’s attention before. He feels like he missed something important before he got to the lobby. 

For the most part, Hansol resists asking Junhwi about the projects he’s worked on, the projects that Seungkwan has enthusiastically been showing him. He thinks it might weird Junhwi out or make him uncomfortable. But he’ll probably tell Seungkwan about this later.

In the midst of talking about his family, Hansol learns that Junhwi’s manager, Jisoo, also speaks English and was born in California, that he gives Hansol express permission to call him Joshua or Josh since no one else around him wants to, and that Junhwi tried learning English for a bit in Jinhua. 

“{English is dangerous,}” Junhwi says before groaning and saying something in what Hansol is assuming is Mandarin, based on Myungho’s sudden giggly reaction. This too goes ignored by Junhwi. 

Myungho opens his mouth and looks like he’s about to explain but Hansol notices his face drop when Joshua does it instead.

“Junnie said that English is frustrating because you have to pronounce each Chinese word with clear articulation but pronouncing English words the same way doesn’t work. It messes with him,” he says, smiling politely.

Hansol turns to Junhwi. “That makes sense though. I don’t blame you, English is…strange.”

Junhwi excitedly turns to him. “{You would teach me English?}” It’s slightly slow and accented but Hansol admires the effort.

“Sure, if you want?” 

While Junhwi claps happily to himself, Joshua chuckles. “You already tried that in Jinhua, with—”

“Yeah, but that was different,” Junhwi quickly cuts in, expression dropping. His eyes quickly glance at Myungho, his first acknowledgement of him since they started lunch, and Hansol doesn’t know why he gets a sudden twinge of worry.

Thankfully, it seems Joshua has also noticed Junhwi’s basic interrogation of Hansol and decides to ask Myungho about projects he’s been working on since they left. Myungho seems surprised at having been addressed after all this time and while he lists them off, Hansol nods along to each one to make sure he remembers them. 

“Wait, hyung,” Hansol says just as Myungho finishes, “what kind of projects did you work on before I joined you?”

Myungho’s eyes widen and he starts blinking away while Joshua chuckles. Junhwi seems very focused on his soup so Hansol just decides to stare Myungho down, waiting. 

“You never told me and while you were mentioning the ones we did, I just realized I didn’t know,” Hansol explains, curious. Well, besides those folders of Moon Junhwi he found in the servers when he started but he supposes that’s a different story.

Myungho clears his throat, sipping some water that he seems to grimace at. “Uh, it was mostly shoots for Jun-ssi. I was mostly… in charge of his shoots.”

So maybe it’s the same story. Hansol cautions a glance at Junhwi, who responds by quickly raising his brow, eyes looking away as he slurps away at his soup.

As he’s scooping some more soup into his personal bowl, Joshua asks, “So Hansol, you started working for Myungho since we left? That must’ve been fun. Was that just recently or…?”

“Uh, not too recently, just two years?” Hansol replies, nodding. “It’s been pretty fun. It was hard at first but hyung’s been teaching me well.”

Myungho quickly swallows the soup he had in his mouth, apparently wanting to add on. “Actually, it was only a few weeks or so after you guys left. Seungcheollie-hyung was offering to move me up and that came with hiring my own assistant and I picked Hansol-ah. The hiring process was a bit long, but it felt like the best thing at the time.”

Hansol feels the air take an eerie shift again as Junhwi’s movements slow and his brow twitches.

“Really?” the model asks in disbelief, squinting up at him.

Myungho nods. “Yeah, that’s how it—”

 _“That_ was what you thought?” Junhwi tries to confirm aggressively.

“Hiring Hansol-ah had nothing to do with it, don’t do this,” he says in a low voice.

“Don’t do what? That’s what you thought was best, right? I'm just asking.”

Myungho nervously looks around at the other tables and leans over the table to say in a hushed whisper, “Do you have something you want to say to me?”

Junhwi quirks his head to the side with mock interest. “A lot of things actually, but whether you’ll actually address them is a whole other question.”

“Jun-ah, hyung, I—”

“Don’t do that,” Junhwi quickly interrupts, scrunching his face and shaking his head. “Being fickle doesn’t look good on you. You never were before, don’t start now.”

Myungho stops and his jaw falls open, puffing out a shocked breath like he’d been hit. 

“I'm just keeping you honest,” Junhwi continues, voice dipping. 

Hansol quickly looks back and forth at them before checking to see if Joshua is feeling just as uncomfortable as he is, but the manager is calmly scooping away at his soup like nothing is wrong. Hansol envies that.

“Fine, Junhwi-ssi. I know you’re mad but—”

“You think this just about being mad?” 

“No, I know, okay. But you don’t get it—”

“Then explain it to me.”

“I keep trying to but you keep interrupting me.”

Junhwi gives a coy smile, pursing his lips, and quickly quirks his head to the side. He leans back in his seat, folding his arms across his chest and gesturing for Myungho to go ahead, nodding continuously.

Myungho shrinks and glances around again. “Not here. _Not now._ You’re too upset to listen to anything I have to say. You’re not thinking straight.”

“You really still think this is _just_ about being upset, okay,” Junhwi replies, voice still dull and mocking. His eyes roll off to the side in annoyance as he sighs, dipping his head back down to slurp at his soup.

Hansol’s eyes widen as he looks back and forth between them. It’s not that they’re yelling but they’re speaking so harshly that Hansol might equate it to watching parents argue. He’s actually still amazed that Joshua is just going about his meal like nothing is wrong. Hansol is too scared of moving or making noise. He really needs some water. 

Myungho inhales sharply. “You don’t understand.”

“You keep saying that but—” 

“No,” Myungho forcefully cuts him off this time, “I mean… you really think you’re the only one that suffered?” His tone is dark, bitter, and it makes Junhwi falter for the first time, cocky expression fizzling off into pure confusion. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

Myungho doesn’t seem like he wants to respond, looks more like he’s frozen and debating with himself.

“Myungho, what does that mean?” If Hansol thought Myungho looking at Junhwi earlier was desperate and hopeful, then Junhwi asking this now would be the verbal equivalent. Hansol also notes that Junhwi has dropped formality for the first time, after scolding Myungho for doing the same earlier. 

Hansol feels like a voyeur watching something he shouldn’t be while Myungho continues contemplating to himself, still choosing not to answer. Hansol thinks he should just follow Joshua’s lead and focus on his soup. 

When he reaches for his water, Hansol’s arm accidentally knocks his soup spoon against his bowl with a noticeable _clink_ that draws both the model and his boss’ attention. As they stare at him, Hansol is quite certain that he fucked up, but to what extent, he’s not sure yet.

“You know, the meat in the broth here is really good,” Joshua suddenly comments, saving him as he points at his spoon. “I think they slow-cooked it very well.”

Hansol spares a glance at him before looking around; Myungho’s eyes are flickering between Joshua’s face, his spoon, and his bowl, while Junhwi is looking at Joshua with a dry expression, like he’s not even surprised. Hansol has no idea how Joshua can have no fear while the two of them are like this. 

“Hansol-ah, I’ll see you back at the studio,” is all Myungho says as he stands up, voice low and dark. It reminds Hansol of when he accidentally asked Myungho if love at first sight was real. Myungho tilts his bowl in his mouth and walks off, muttering a low “Thanks for lunch, Shua-hyung,” as he goes. 

Junhwi calls out something in Mandarin after him that Myungho continues to ignore. Junhwi groans and runs a hand through his hair in frustration.

Once the door chimes and Myungho has disappeared from view, Junhwi glances between the remaining two table occupants before settling on Hansol. “You wouldn’t happen to know what he means, would you?” he asks, voice light and curious, as if he weren’t just in an argument two minutes ago. 

Hansol shakes his head, gulping. “No, sir.” It comes out instinctively, born out of some sort of panic, the automatic formality, the sort-of-lie. Hansol thinks he knows what Myungho means. 

Out of everything he’s observed about Myungho so far, Hansol knows Myungho is only really affected by something if it has to do with Moon Junhwi. _‘You really think you’re the only one that suffered?’_ Moon Junhwi was like a sort of soft spot that Myungho didn’t want to acknowledge and would get upset if you did, hence all his visits to Chan’s office. He knew Myungho was haunted by Moon Junhwi, even before he came back. 

Last week, Myungho told Hansol he didn’t regret his breakup with Junhwi; Hansol thinks Myungho really believes that, but he also thinks Myungho has to be lying to himself on some level. As far as Hansol knows, Myungho’s done nothing _but_ suffer in Junhwi’s absence, likely also due to it. He doesn’t know enough about Junhwi to know how far it’s reciprocated, but he thinks that’s what Myungho means.

Junhwi gives him a polite smile, despite his eyes seeming a bit sad. “That’s alright, you don’t have to call me ‘sir.’” He slurps his soup back and fishes out his wallet to toss down a ten thousand won note. “See you back at the building, Shua-hyung. I’m sorry you had to see that, Hansollie-ssi,” he mutters as he gets up, patting Hansol twice on the shoulder.

When they’re both gone, Hansol looks at Joshua, who seems almost entirely unaffected. “Sorry about them,” Joshua says, smiling with a small bow of the head. “You’re probably aware that they used to date.”

Hansol nods, stunned. “Yeah. You don’t seem surprised they did that,” he says cautiously.

Joshua wipes at his mouth with a napkin. “Not really.”

Hansol doesn’t know what to feel. “Were they always like that?”

Joshua purses his lips. “As far as I know, no, that’s the first time they’ve argued. But I figured they had a lot to talk about. Myungho is stubborn and Junnie….” He shrugs. “So, ready to go?”

Hansol stands up, nodding as Joshua pockets the won note that Junhwi left behind before going up to the staff and paying with his card himself. 

On the walk back, Hansol feels like he understands even less about Myungho than before. The briefing of “they dated and they broke up” that Mingyu gave him did not prepare him for this.

Hansol hazards his question, “So what exactly happened with them? Junhwi-ssi and Myungho-hyung?” 

Joshua looks thoughtfully up to the sky for a bit before he answers, “They dated for a long time, they were like, really in love, if you can believe it,” he says, chuckling. “It was actually really cute. And, Junnie— one week, Junnie tells me they’re going to move in together. Then the next, he calls me and says… well, he says they’ve broken up and that we’re going to Jinhua.”

“Did he tell you why?”

Joshua makes an apologetic face. “It’s not really my place to say.”

Hansol pouts. “So it was pretty serious, huh? If they were so in love, what would have made Junhwi-ssi stop?”

Joshua pauses, looking intrigued. “What makes you say that?”

Hansol panics, wondering if he’s just outed Myungho. “Uh….”

Joshua just watches him, waiting for him to finish his thought. 

“It’s just,” Hansol gulps, “I’ve spent a lot of time with Myungho-hyung and the way he talks about it is… Junhwi-ssi is the one who stopped, right? He’s the one who ended things when he left?” _Why else would Myungho-hyung look so sad and be throwing up in a toilet the next day?_

Joshua blinks at him. “Interesting. That’s what Myungho told you?”

Hansol grimaces. “You’re not going to tell on me, are you?”

Joshua takes a breath like he’s about to answer, but then reconsiders and sighs in amusement. “No, but I’m going to have to talk to Myungho now.” 

Hansol gulps as they make it back to the building, feeling like he somehow did something wrong.

*****

_Jisoo comes to pick them up after their date, where Junhui insists that Minghao slide in the car first._

_Once Jisoo starts driving, Junhui grabs Minghao’s hand and whispers in his ear, “[You don’t mind if I tell him about us, do you?]”_

_Minghao chuckles and shakes his head._

_Junhui lets go of Minghao’s hand and leans forward near Jisoo’s shoulder. “Shua-hyung, I’m—”_

_“Dating Myungho, yes. Finally. It’s cute, congratulations.”_

_Junhui pouts. “How did you…?”_

_Jisoo scoffs, chuckling. “You came up to the car holding hands,” he quickly replies. “You were literally holding hands a few seconds ago. And when I dropped you off earlier, you told me you were going on a date with him, remember? You couldn’t sit still because you were so excited?”_

_Junhui makes a small whine, seemingly upset at having the first chance to announce their relationship taken away, and leans back beside Minghao, hiding his face in Minghao’s neck while Jisoo continues smiling at them. Minghao takes the chance to slip his hand back in Junhui’s, linking their fingers and hopes he has no complaints._

_“Fine, fine. Tell me again, I’ll be surprised,” Jisoo offers._

_Junhui doesn’t bother moving this time and just holds up their joined hands. “Shua-hyung, Myungho and I are dating!”_

_Jisoo laughs. “Oh wow, really? Oh my god, that’s amazing.”_

_Junhui scoffs, the air puffing against Minghao’s skin. Suddenly Junhui jolts off. “So wait, we’re…?”_

_“Boyfriends, yes, Jun-hyung,” Minghao replies dryly, trying not to laugh. “I thought that was obvious. Unless you don’t want to be.”_

_“No, I do! I just wanted to hear you say it.” Junhui covers his mouth with his free hand and giggles into it. Minghao makes a show of rolling his eyes but doesn’t bother hiding his smile._

_Jisoo is still laughing and glances at them in the rearview mirror. “So we’ll drop Myungho off first?”_

_Junhui cheers a loud “Yep!” and this time, Minghao leans his head on Junhui’s shoulder, letting go of Junhui’s hand so he can loop his arm around Junhui’s first before reconnecting their hands. Minghao then chooses to look anywhere other than Jisoo, knowing there’s a smirk probably aimed at him._

_+++_

_Junhui insists on walking Minghao up to the front door of his building, despite it only being a few feet away from where Jisoo has the car, holding hands the entire time._

_When they get to the door, he grabs Minghao’s other hand, giggling as he swings them back and forth. He says a quick “See you soon,” pecks Minghao’s cheek and runs back to the car._

_Minghao does his best to control his smile as he watches the car drive off._

_When Minghao gets back in the apartment, he sees Mingyu vacuuming away, back to him. He probably didn’t even hear Minghao come in over the noise, blissfully absorbed in his own world._

_Minghao stands in the shoe area, staring as a heavy feeling settles into his chest. Suddenly all the butterflies in his stomach vanish, instantly going into hibernation, even having the decency to clean up after their earlier rave._

_There were actually a lot of things Minghao wanted to say, that he was excited that his crush on Junhui worked out, that Mingyu was wrong about Junhui, that he was in a relationship with someone who was excited to learn about him, someone who also fascinated him, that Minghao was just excited. But he swallows them all down, because he’s worried how Mingyu would react to it, knowing how Mingyu feels about Junhui._

_It’s like that kid who says they’re going to go study, but sneaks off to hang out with his friends that his mother doesn’t approve of, only to come home and find her doing her best to keep the house in one piece. That same ugly, gnawing feeling of guilt._

_For some reason, his feet don’t want to move and he stands there until Mingyu turns in his direction and powers the vacuum off, looking at him with a questioning expression._

_“What are you doing?” Minghao asks, attempting to sound casual._

_Mingyu hums and stands the handle upright. “Cleaning,” he replies, smiling._

_Minghao shrugs off his bag as he steps forward. “Do you want me to help you?”_

_Mingyu’s brow furrows, confused. “No? No, it’s okay, I like cleaning. It relaxes me.” He grins again, proud._

_Minghao approaches slowly, still unsure, even though he has absolutely no reason to doubt Mingyu’s love of cleaning._

_Mingyu’s head tilts. “Why do you look so sad? How was your walk?”_

_A weird feeling tingles over Minghao’s skin. That’s right, Mingyu thought he was going out for another nature walk to take pictures. How was he supposed to explain that his camera was just full of pictures of Junhui on their date?_

_Minghao rushes to his room, tossing his bag in and starts looking around. “It was fine, didn’t get many pictures though, didn’t like the lighting. I’m gonna start the laundry!” he calls, pulling out his laundry basket._

_“You’re going to do the laundry?” Mingyu asks, incredulous._

_Minghao nods, coming out of his room and goes into Mingyu’s, pulling out his laundry basket and dumps the contents into his basket._

_“Why?”_

_“I can’t let you do everything around here,” Minghao replies, picking up the basket and quickly heading to their laundry area. “It’s why I got the job, remember?”_

_“But Myungho, it’s really oka—” is all he hears before the door shuts._

_Minghao just focuses on sorting clothes. He doesn’t tell Mingyu. Minghao doesn’t tell Mingyu that Junhui is now his boyfriend because he doesn’t know what he would gain by Mingyu having that information, but it can’t be anything good. He’s also a little scared to find out, as much as it hurts his heart._

_Minghao knows it’s cowardly, dealing with an inevitable argument by avoiding it altogether. He doesn’t want to argue with Mingyu. He just needs more time._

*****

When Minghao gets back from lunch, he sends a firm email to Jeonghan saying he’s going home and taking the rest of the week off. He preemptively points out that Hansol is not a child so he can handle running some shoots on his own and already has, knowing that Jeonghan would try to use that to stop him. He checked the schedule, all the planned shoots were all minor routine shoots anyway. He CC’s Hansol’s email just in case.

He gets a simple, _‘Fine. I’ll tell Cheollie. Feel better.’_ email in reply and then leaves, hoping he doesn’t run into any of his lunch-mates along the way. He doesn’t know how to explain his argument with Junhui and he doesn’t think he can. He thinks he’s already said way too much as it is.

Minghao considers taking a taxi home but decides to walk, feeling that the air and time to himself would do him some good. He decides to take scenery shots again, enough to calm him down but it’s not enough to completely pacify him. 

When he moved out of his apartment he shared with Mingyu years ago, Minghao relocated to a building a few blocks away from Wonwoo’s. He figured he might as well since he was already intending to move out of Mingyu’s anyway. It was the best he was able to get considering the timing of it all. It was an apartment clearly meant for two people but Minghao opted to use the spare room for his art. 

He paints a lot here, it’s a good outlet for him when taking photos isn’t enough. Sometimes Minghao has a vision in his head that doesn’t actually exist and therefore can’t be recreated through a lens. Besides, he takes photos all day, coming home to take more photos is just more of the same. So Minghao goes to his art room, pulls out a canvas and his acrylics and lets his hands move, tries to turn his brain off. 

Yes, he knows storming out of lunch with Junhui was unfair, causing more questions than answers. He knows Junhui was upset; upset and hurt and angry and lashing out, trying to hurt Minghao back for hurting him first. Minghao knows because he caused it, twice, telling Junhui he didn’t regret their breakup, making Junhui relive it in that brief moment with that added knowledge, reopening up those old wounds that likely never fully healed in the first place. 

Minghao knows this because he was there too, he lived through their breakup as well and it would be stupid to think that Minghao didn’t break his own heart.

_“You really think you’re the only one that suffered?”_

_“[Minghao, just tell me what you mean!]”_

Minghao couldn’t have explained himself then, not while everything was still fresh and raw and too close to the surface, not while Hansol and Jisoo were also there, just pretending they were only focused on their soup. He thinks he wouldn’t have been able to do it, unable to muster up whatever was necessary in himself to tell Junhui more things that would just hurt both of them. What good would it be to drag themselves back there anyway, to that time and place where Minghao decided they had to break up?

Junhui doesn’t have it in him to truly hate someone. It would have relieved Minghao to some extent, knowing that Junhui wouldn’t come so close to it with him if he didn’t truly love Minghao once, and have some kind of deep-rooted feelings for him now.

But Minghao knew Junhui loved him, he knew that when he left, he broke up with Junhui in spite of that. And whatever deep-rooted feelings Junhui was still holding for him now, leftover resentment, anger, spite… Minghao knows he truly earned all of it. 

It just reminds Minghao that regardless of his own feelings towards Junhui now, he gave up the right to be anything in Junhui’s life. He’s the one that chose this and he has to live with it. Trying to come back in when Junhui’s still stuck in that place, blind and holding onto that regret, would be unusually cruel. For both of them.

With one final dramatic swipe upwards, Minghao finishes his art piece. He steps back to look at it, all of his stress conveyed in splatters going every which-way. He bites his lip in how it’s yet another piece that reminds him of Junhui, the swatches of red and black in the back covered by splatterings of white, black, and grey. He supposes it’s fitting.

He opens a window to air the room out, washes his hands and goes over to check his phone that he had tossed on his bed earlier.

 _‘Hansol told me to check on you. Something happen?’_ was sent by Mingyu almost twenty minutes ago. 

Minghao walks over to his kitchen, still staring at his messaging app as he looks for his wine and a glass. As he pours himself a portion, he debates on what to answer Mingyu with. He considers lying but also considers not answering him at all. He’s not sure if it was worth bothering Mingyu for. But is that better than being alone with his thoughts like this?

After a few more moments of contemplation, he decides to text Mingyu his apartment passcode.

+++

For the rest of the afternoon, Junhui does his best to avoid Jisoo’s questioning glances or the expression Jisoo gives when he’s pretending he’s not judging when he clearly is, despite also having to rely on him for meetings. 

Luckily, Jisoo doesn’t bring up the argument, doesn’t bring up another “Hey, so I know you’re bothered by Myungho,” attempt at conversation. Other than the glances, he acts like they had a pleasant experience having pork bone soup and learning about Minghao’s ‘new’ assistant. Junhui can appreciate that Jisoo knows when to push and when to back away. 

Junhui, however, has no such inhibitor. He’s backed away for three years already.

Before heading home for the day, Junhui peaks his head into the photography studio room, looking around. “Oh, Hansollie, it’s just you. Where’s your boss?” he asks, instantly deflating.

Hansol blinks up at him from his desk, face blank. “He sent an email to Jeonghan-hyung, he took the rest of the day off after lunch.”

“Oh.” Junhui backs away, intending on leaving but Hansol keeps talking.

“He said he’s taking the rest of the week off too, so if you’re worried about any shoots you have this week, I’ll be taking over.” His tone is clearly trying to be reassuring and helpful. To Junhui, however, it sounds a bit nervous, like he’s trying to convince Junhui of something even he’s not fully sure about. 

Junhui smirks, patting his hand on the doorframe. “You sure you can handle that, kid? You’ve never worked with me before.” Junhui doesn’t actually have any shoots this week, they’re still all up for discussion; he just wants to see where this will go.

“Well,” Hansol starts, and Junhui notices he gulps, despite his even tone, “Myungho-hyung said it was his main job since before I got here and I’ve learned a lot from him. If Myungho-hyung can do it, I’m sure I can too.”

Junhui quirks his head, amused. “That’s what they all say.”

“All?” Hansol weakly echoes. 

“I had to do photoshoots while I was in China, didn’t I?”

Hansol pushes away from his desk slightly. “How many—” He pauses, thinking it over while Junhui lifts a brow, waiting. “No, I’ve been studying under Myungho-hyung. I was also at that shoot with you and Mingyu-hyung. I’ve shadowed enough. I can handle it.” 

Junhui offers a weak smile. “Me solo is different from me with another person. But I actually don’t have any shoots this week, sorry. And if your boss isn’t here...” he says, patting the door frame again and starts to walk away. 

“If Myungho-hyung’s work is what you’re looking for, I’d be the closest bet. Unless,” Hansol tries, voice shifting as he finally stands up, “you’re not looking for him right now for his work?”

Junhui stops and comes back to the door. “Oh?” 

“I know you used to date Myungho-hyung and that’s why you were arguing at lunch. You’re still wondering what he meant when he left.” 

Junhui lets out another sigh and crosses his arms, leaning against the doorframe. He nods at Hansol to continue. Mingyu did tell Junhui that Hansol knows about his history with Minghao, but he wants to figure out what else he knows.

“I don’t really know what happened between you two. Myungho-hyung doesn’t really like to talk about stuff much,” Hansol says, nervous. Junhui frowns at this. “But I do know that hyung isn’t really bothered by anything unless it has to do with you. He usually saves his days off for holidays so him using them now, all of a sudden, after arguing with you, is kind of weird. I know he’s hard to read but I think that means _something.”_

Junhui watches him, unsure how truthful he’s being. He does sound like he wants to help and he _is_ the person who has spent the most time with Minghao since Junhui left, probably barring Mingyu. The Minghao that Hansol is describing, however, doesn’t really sound like the Minghao Junhui knows. 

But then again, the Minghao he knew wouldn’t have callously left him and claimed he had no regrets about it. So maybe Junhui doesn’t actually know much of anything about Minghao after all. 

“I lied to you before,” Hansol continues, “I think I know what Myungho-hyung meant at lunch, I’ve spent enough time with him to figure that out. He doesn’t say much but the way he acts and talks about you….”

“So why’d you lie?”

“I was nervous,” Hansol admits hurriedly. “I’ve never seen hyung like that before, I panicked. But I know him, he really….” He pauses, seems to reconsider his words before giving up entirely. 

Junhui takes a deep breath. “Does doing a photoshoot with me mean so much to you that you’d sell him out by telling me that? I mean, _he_ clearly doesn't want me to know.”

“You probably know, Myungho-hyung is kind of… peculiar when it comes to his art,” Hansol says, treading carefully. 

Junhui purses his lips and tosses his head to the side, conceding that point.

“He doesn’t really let me do shoots on my own. I mean, once in a while but I don’t get enough creative control because he still has a last say on everything and oversees it. I want a chance to prove myself to him. Without his help.”

“By using me?”

Hansol opens his mouth like he’s about to say something, but he stops himself and reconsiders again. “It’s the only way he’ll pay attention.”

Junhui still doesn’t understand what Minghao was trying to say at lunch, no matter how many times he replays it in his head. 

Until that point, Junhui had been convinced that Minghao left him because he didn’t care anymore, that he just stopped and suddenly didn’t want him, that Junhui no longer meant anything to him. He was hoping there was a chance that there was some part of Minghao that would regret ending things, that would’ve wanted to take it back and change how it ended. 

Like Junhui did. 

But Minghao shut that down, telling him plainly that he had never regretted it.

Why then would Minghao go and make Junhui question whether or not he was really the only one suffering? Why would Minghao imply he’s suffering too if he didn’t regret it? And then here Hansol is, Minghao’s assistant, basically offering Junhui another chance at hope, saying that Junhui still has an effect on Minghao in some way, saying he can explain Minghao’s actions.

There’s also something familiar about Hansol, something that reminds Junhui of someone, but he can’t place who quite yet. He’s not sure if it’s Minghao or someone else.

“Sure,” Junhui finally decides, “I’ll let you do one of my shoots, Hansollie. But I have three conditions.”

Hansol nods. “What are they?”

“One, you show me your portfolio. Two, you tell me whatever you know about your Myungho-hyung. And three,” Junhui says slowly, tapping his fist lightly against the doorframe a few times, “you tell me when your boss gets back.” 

Hansol looks away, staring off somewhere before he starts nodding to himself. His eyes come back to meet Junhui’s. “Deal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one ... this one was difficult and went through so many revisions, scene changes and rewrites before I was finally happy with it.  
> Anyway, thanks so much for reading and supporting so far! Let me know how this one was ;3;  
> Also please don't forget to support Jun and Minghao's solo OSTs for the Chinese version of The King - Eternal Monarch!! (Dream for Jun and Maze for Minghao~)


	6. Find out what to do, find out if you love me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, thank you guys again for your support on the last chapter and going on this self-indulgent journey with me~  
> If anyone is curious about the scrapped version of the last chapter, I summarized it [here.](https://twitter.com/paishhao/status/1281664861261398016)
> 
> Chapter title is from STUCKINMYBRAIN by Chase Atlantic. I've also retroactively added the chapter title songs to previous chapters~ 
> 
> Onto the update~
> 
> Text in [square brackets] are still in Mandarin. (I don't think it comes up much here though?)

“So you’re hiding,” Mingyu aptly sums up after Minghao’s lengthy explanation of the last few hours over wine at his kitchen table.

Minghao frowns. “I’m not hiding, I’m just… thinking.”

“Hiding. Because you basically don’t want to explain yourself to Junhwi,” Mingyu states unhelpfully, smirking anyway. 

Minghao groans, sipping at his wine. “I thought you were here to help me.”

Mingyu’s smirk grows wider. “I am.” He takes another sip, swirling the remaining liquid around, staring into it seriously for a few seconds before he says, “You told Junhwi you didn’t regret your breakup. Do you really believe that?”

“Yes,” Minghao answers automatically, firm. “I never doubted that.”

Mingyu blinks, expression fading off into concern. 

“I know what you’re going to say,” Minghao says preemptively, sighing. “I don’t blame him for getting upset about it, I just … I don’t know, I didn’t know he would ask that. I didn’t want to hurt him but I didn’t want to lie to him either.”

“Those seem unavoidable, you were going to have to do one or the other,” Mingyu replies, tone unimpressed. “But that wasn’t what I was going to say.”

Minghao frowns, not bothering to ask since he knows Mingyu will tell him anyway. 

“You told me you still had feelings for Junhwi and you’re also saying you don’t regret breaking up with him,” Mingyu says slowly, leaning his chin on the back of his hand. “Watching you trying to get over it and pretend was pretty sad to look at, not gonna lie.”

“Mingyu, you can roast me another time, where is this going?”

Mingyu bubbles out a few chuckles. “What I’m saying is, are you sure this is what you wanted?” he asks, watching Minghao’s face carefully. “You said you don’t regret it but you told Junhwi you suffered so I’m just making sure you’re not lying to yourself either.”

Minghao feels himself gulp and throws back the remaining wine in his glass. Mingyu is still watching him, still unimpressed. Minghao looks around, hoping Mingyu’s eyes would stop pressuring him for an answer. “Look, I— it’s better this way, it’s f—”

“For who?” Mingyu snorts. “You’re both upset but at least Junhwi owns that he’s affected by it. You keep pretending like you’re not and that this was some great thing that had to happen but—”

“It was!” Minghao insists a bit too loudly, leaning forward over the table at him.

Mingyu just raises his brows. “Then why did you tell him you suffered?” he asks, voice low and serious.

“Because I did.”

Mingyu stares at him, expression full of a sort of pained confusion, like he’s getting tired of trying to understand him. “Look,” he says, laying his hand on the table, “you’ve had the luxury of knowing that Junhwi loved you and that everything was real this entire time. Junhwi probably reacted the way he did today because he didn’t get the same.”

Minghao takes an unsteady breath. “It slipped out, he was getting so mad and I just—” He clenches his fist, hoping the sting of his nails pressing into his palm would distract from the pain in his lungs. “I don’t want to lie to Jun… but I can’t tell him everything either.” 

Mingyu’s brow furrows further. “Why?”

“It’s not important. It would just hurt him and hold him back.”

“So this isn’t what you wanted. But you’re going to keep pretending like it is?” 

Minghao nibbles at his lip as he backs up, folding his arms over his chest and looking away. “I… what I wanted doesn’t matter, we just got the timing wrong is all, it’s not like there was a point I didn’t want to be with him, it’s just,” he mutters. “I know he was hurt today but… Junhui was blind back then and he still is now. He didn’t have to act like he didn’t have anything to do with the breakup either.” 

“Did he?” Mingyu pointedly asks. “Your drunk ass only told me you broke up with him and not much else. And your sober ass stopped talking about it completely until he came back.”

Minghao frowns and looks down at his glass again. He really doesn’t remember much after he came back from Junhui’s apartment. He knows their place was empty and he knows he got some wine out. He doesn’t remember when Mingyu came home but he knows he was there because Minghao thinks he swore at him. But that’s it.

“Did I swear at you that day?” Minghao asks quietly.

“Yes,” Mingyu snorts, taking a last sip at his wine, “you bitch.” His tone is light, teasing, smirking around his glass. 

“Sorry,” comes out of Minghao automatically. 

Mingyu shrugs, putting his glass down but still staring at the bottom of it. “It’s not a big deal.”

“What did I say?”

Mingyu looks at him. “I’m not telling you,” he replies, chuckling. 

“Why not?” Minghao asks with a slight pout. 

Mingyu makes a face and looks up and off to the side, thinking. “Because it doesn’t really matter? You were drunk.” He looks back at Minghao. “Besides, shouldn’t you be focusing on what you’re going to do about Junhwi? What do you actually want?” 

Minghao leans forward over the table, about to protest but Mingyu holds a hand up to stop him.

“And by that I mean, regardless if he hates you, regardless of whatever you think he thinks of you,” Mingyu presses. “If you don’t think about his feelings right now and it’s just you, what do _you actually_ want?”

Minghao wants a lot of things, things that don’t make sense, things he can’t ask for, things he doesn’t want to admit.

His mouth feels dry. “I… I just— I don’t know.”

Mingyu eyes him. “You should probably figure it out. If you don’t make a decision, one will probably get made for you.” He picks up the wine bottle, inspecting it as he says, “Just talk to him. Explain yourself and apologize. Deal with the rest later.” 

Minghao’s expression softens into a gentle smile. He doesn’t know why he didn’t think Mingyu would catch him lying. “Love you.”

Mingyu’s eyes land on him for a second. “Hm?” His attention goes back to the bottle, finger idly scratching at the label. “I know,” he hums, voice light and airy, content smile poking up at the corners of his lips.

*****

_Dating Junhui was tricky. Not in the traditional way that Minghao expected though._

_For starters, they had to first inform Chan, who told them that it was fine, they had to make sure Seungcheol was aware and that it didn’t interfere with their work. Otherwise, Chan was happy for them._

_Telling Seungcheol was also fairly easy. His face melted in a sort of cooing awe and he even went around his desk to hug them while echoing Chan’s warning of not having it affect work._

_Telling Jeonghan on the way out was where Minghao had cemented that Jeonghan wasn’t kidding about his mild threat earlier. Luckily, Junhui was there to protect him but Minghao knew they would always be at odds._

_But after that, dating Junhui was a bit tricky in that they had to sneak around. A lot. Mostly to avoid media attention, outlined by Jisoo._

_Most dates had to be indoors. Junhui was apologetic about it but Minghao said he didn’t mind, mostly because he liked being with Junhui so much that it didn’t matter to him where they went. He was too shy to mention that part to him but he hopes Junhui knows anyway._

_What Minghao couldn’t forgive, however, was Junhui resigning himself to hoodies. He gave Junhui a slideshow of alternative outfit options, citing, “Please don’t embarrass me, hyung. If I’m going to be seen with you, at least dress nice.”_

_They’re able to continue work as normal since Minghao gets booked for occasional actors and models besides Junhui. Doing shoots with Junhui just involves a bit more teasing and back hugs at the end but not much else since Minghao told Junhui he’s taking his work seriously. Junhui respected this but challenged it slightly, asking, ”What, and you don’t think I do? You wound me, Xiao Hao.”_

_For their second date, on the weekend after their first, Minghao brings Junhui to a museum to show him art he liked. He holds Junhui’s hand the entire time and he can tell that it isn’t exactly Junhui’s first choice for a date._

_But Junhui still tries really hard for him, asking questions about the pieces along with the occasional “Do you do something like that?”, “What do you like most about this one?” and “That’s the style you like, right?” that Minghao finds endearing._

_When they leave the museum in the early evening, Minghao lightly swings their joined hands back and forth. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”_

_Junhui pouts. “No, I guess not.”_

_Minghao lets out a soft chuckle, dipping his chin down. “Sorry, I know it’s not really your scene but—”_

_“No, it was great!” Junhui insists, somehow overly eager. “I’m glad you wanted to introduce me to your world.”_

_“Really?” Minghao challenges, slightly skeptical. “Was there a part you liked best?”_

_Junhui makes a show of looking thoughtful, humming. “The part where you were smiling the whole time? Your eyes were so sparkly and happy, it was super pretty.”_

_Minghao tightens his lips in his mouth and blinks a few times, nodding continuously as a way to control himself. It’s good to know the butterflies are still there, swirling around and rattling against Minghao’s chest. He walks toward Junhui, wrapping his free arm around Junhui’s waist so he can hide his face in the crook of Junhui’s neck. Minghao notes that Junhui smells like vanilla and lavender. Interesting._

_Junhui starts laughing. “What?” he asks, wrapping his arm around Minghao’s back. “Are you blushing because you’re amazed by my awesome lines?”_

_Minghao sighs. “Stop ruining the moment, [Wen Junhui.] And you better not be telling other people those lines, okay? I’ll deal with them all for you.”_

_“Ah, you’re so cute!” Junhui chirps happily, rubbing Minghao’s back. When Minghao groans in annoyance, Junhui quickly adds, “I mean, noted!”_

_Minghao thinks he could get used to being held by Junhui. Even with the feelings in his chest going crazy, somehow it feels comfortable and safe and it soothes him._

_+++_

_On their next date the following week, Junhui brings Minghao to a place where they could make pottery._

_“It’s artsy, I thought you’d like it?” Junhui offers nervously, seeing Minghao’s shocked face. “Did I guess wrong?”_

_Minghao quickly shakes his head. “No, I love it.” Without thinking, he grabs the side of Junhui’s neck and brings him in to press their lips together softly. It’s a bit more gentle than their first and Minghao’s okay with that. Junhui leans a bit further into him and there's a warm feeling spreading in his chest, the pull that tells him this is what he wants, this is right._

_Junhui’s eyes flutter open as Minghao backs up. “Okay, if I knew you were going to react like_ that, _I would’ve brought you here sooner.”_

_Minghao gives a shy squished smile in return, grabbing Junhui’s hand and pulling him over to one of the stations._

_Minghao decides to make a simple rice bowl. When he looks over, he sees Junhui trying to sculpt a tall rectangular-looking cat head out of his clay. Minghao wants to say he’s surprised but he’s kind of not and a cheery set of giggles bubble out of him. “Jun-hyung, what are you doing?”_

_Junhui’s tongue pokes out at the corner of his mouth in concentration, not looking away from his creation. “Trying to make a cat head bowl.”_

_Minghao decides to entertain him. “You’re going to eat out of that?”_

_“Don’t be silly, Xiao Hao, I’m not going to eat out of this,” Junhui insists with a small pout. “I’m going to put all the flowers you give me in here.”_

_Minghao giggles. “Who says I’m giving you flowers?”_

_Junhui exhales a non-serious huff and Minghao thinks it’s cute. “I did! Just now. I want really pretty flowers, Xiao Hao! Every month. Almost as pretty as me!”_

_Minghao chuckles, glancing back to make sure his bowl is still doing alright. “I’m not getting you flowers, Jun-hyung. Flowers die. It’s best to leave them outside.”_

_Junhui mock gasps, still focused on molding the ears. “You were supposed to say there_ are _no flowers as pretty as me, jeez.”_

_“I’m changing the conditions. I’ll get you something else instead, okay?” Minghao offers, watching Junhui’s face._

_Junhui sighs, again not-seriously, and makes a show of thinking it over. “Okay, but it better be better than flowers. You better not give me anything lame like, newspaper or something.”_

_Minghao chuckles again, watching him. “I won’t, I promise.”_

_“Hmm,” Junhui hums, debating, “do you keep all your promises?”_

_Minghao lifts his chin, smirking. “To you, I will,” he says confidently._

_Junhui’s face crumbles, eyes wide, and he starts coughing. He tries to hide it in his own shoulder and fails, unable to move his hands away from his clay cat head bowl. “You’re not allowed to judge me for my lines anymore!”_

_Minghao’s only response is to laugh at him. He doesn’t want to say that he usually hates promises. He thought they were frivolous and meaningless, empty words people would say to pacify each other._

_But maybe Junhui is the only one he’ll make promises to. And Minghao thinks he’s okay with that. He wonders if it’s strange to like someone this much so quickly, if it’s allowed to be this easy. As he watches Junhui flag down one of the pottery staff for some help, he wonders if it’s just because it’s Junhui that it feels easy._

_The staff walks away and Junhui sends Minghao an embarrassed grin as he chuckles, ducking his head slightly. Minghao smiles back and thinks keeping promises to Junhui will be just as easy too._

*****

When Hansol gets in this morning, he gets copied on the company-wide email informing the departments that Myungho is using his day off today and that Hansol will be filling in. 

Hansol thinks he has to make use of this, his chance to prove himself without Myungho’s help. He’ll get to control everything from lighting to directing to editing afterwards.

There are only two shoots today, both actor groups for promotional images. Hansol can handle that. He knows Myungho likely won’t really care about whatever Hansol does during these shoots since they don’t really interest him much, but Hansol finds it daunting nonetheless. 

He takes out his phone and types out a message. _‘Seungkwan-ah, wish me good luck today!’_

 _‘Ooh are you doing something fun like a big shoot today? Okay, good luck, Hansol!! Tell Myungho-hyung I said hi!’_ with cute little stickers that make Hansol chuckle and poke at his heart a little. It seemed very Seungkwan.

 _‘Myungho-hyung isn’t here. I’m doing them on my own today.’_ He attaches a puffed-up confident sticker.

Seungkwan takes longer to reply this time, first sending a shocked sticker. _‘But Myungho-hyung never takes days off!!!! It’s only Thursday! What happened??? Is hyung okay?’_ followed by several crying stickers.

 _‘He’s fine. I’ll explain later. I gotta go.’_ Hansol puts the phone down.

Junhwi is peeking his head at the door again, knocking. Hansol’s phone buzzes some more but he doesn’t look.

“Myungho-hyung still isn’t here,” Hansol says, belatedly realizing that Junhwi would likely already— 

“I know,” Junhwi replies curtly. “Shua-hyung told me. I’m here because we agreed on something yesterday, remember?”

Right. The deal Hansol made with Junhwi. He exchanged three favors for a photoshoot with him. Sure, Junhwi’s first and last conditions were easy enough, and he probably purposely designed them that way. Sandwich the easy stuff on the outside, _“show me your portfolio,”_ and _“tell me when your boss gets back.”_

It’s that middle one — _“you tell me whatever you know about your Myungho-hyung”_ — that weighs a bit heavier on Hansol’s mind. 

But then, he was the one who offered it to Junhwi in the first place. Hansol knew what he was doing.

He saw how distraught Junhwi was over lunch yesterday, how despite ignoring Myungho almost the entire time, he snapped and argued with him over … something Hansol doesn’t understand, but he guesses it’s something specific Myungho said. 

People don’t get that mad about something unless they cared about it on some level, even if they can’t see it themselves. 

When Junhwi called after Myungho and then came to the studio yesterday looking for him, looking for answers, Hansol figured that Junhwi is just as deeply affected by Myungho as Myungho is by him. He thinks if Junhwi knows that too, they’ll be okay again and Myungho can stop being so prickly and angry and haunted and tunnel-visioned. Hansol still hasn’t forgotten Myungho basically letting Hansol know he still loved Junhwi the other week. 

Hansol is a _bit_ worried about how Myungho would feel about him basically spilling his habits and observational details like this, especially to the person that essentially holds Myungho’s heart in his hands, but Hansol thinks he can help. It’s for the best, after all. And just as Joshua said yesterday, Myungho _is_ stubborn.

Hansol’s phone buzzes again. It’s when it goes off continuously that Junhwi’s eyes flicker over to it before looking back at Hansol. “Do you need to get that?”

“Uh, it’s just my friend. He’s one of those that sends each word in a sentence as its own message, you know?” He picks up his phone and checks it. It really was Seungkwan just sending each word as a message, mainly spelling out _‘Chwe Hansol, tell me what’s going on! Don’t ignore me!! What happened with Myungho-hyung! Hansol!’_

Junhwi hums, closing the door behind him as he comes into the room. When he gets close to Hansol’s desk, Hansol instinctively backs away. 

“What? Aren’t you going to show me your portfolio?” Junhui asks, sounding mildly confused and offended. “I gotta see what I’m working with.”

“Actually,” Hansol interjects, feeling nervous all of a sudden. “Can I take a selfie with you? To send to my friend?”

“All of a sudden?”

“He’s a big fan,” Hansol adds quickly. “And you have three conditions, I’m changing this to one of mine.”

Junhwi lets out an amused puff of a chuckle. “Your boss teach you that?”

“What?”

Junhwi quickly shakes his head. “Nothing. Get your phone ready,” he says, crouching so he’s close next to Hansol’s face. He gives a polite smile and a peace sign as Hansol snaps the picture.

Hansol turns back to his computer, bringing up his portfolio on screen and gestures for Junhwi to go ahead and scroll through while he sends the selfie off to Seungkwan.

 _‘Myungho-hyung is fine. I’ll explain later. I’m here with Moon Junhwi-ssi. Don't send too many messages, he’s already asking why my phone keeps going off. I’m trying to get an in for you.’_ Hansol types quickly and then puts his phone down to give Junhwi his attention in case he asks about anything. He’s a bit self-conscious about having him look at his portfolio. 

“Not bad, kid, I can see why he picked you,” Junhwi comments quietly. “You do have more scenery than subject shots but I guess….” His voice lifts at the end, mostly mumbling to himself. “Oh, you did a shoot with Woohyun-ssi?” he asks curiously, stopping to point at a specific picture.

Hansol nods quickly, recognizing it as Seokmin’s flighty musical acting senior. “Uh, yeah. For a musical theatre shoot. Myungho-hyung let me take over that day. You know him?”

Junhwi tosses his head to the side quickly, not taking his eyes off the screen as he continues scrolling. “Friend of a friend.”

His phone only goes off two more times but Hansol ignores it for now, trying to figure out Moon Junhwi’s deal. So far, he thinks it’s peculiar how carefully Junhwi seems to pick his words, how he switches between calling him ‘kid’ and ‘Hansollie’ on what seems like a whim, how he purposely dodges saying Myungho’s name, mostly saying ‘your boss’ when he wants to talk about him if he wasn’t already the subject of conversation. 

Hansol doesn’t know how to read him. He wants to figure this out. He tells himself it's for Myungho’s sake. 

Junhwi gets to the bottom of the page, unable to scroll any further and backs off, humming a content noise. “It’s pretty good,” is all he comments, fingers coming up to idly play with his earlobe. “Okay, this can work.”

Hansol really doesn’t know how to read him but he thinks Junhwi will probably ask for the second condition of his deal soon so Hansol thinks fast. “Junhwi-ssi, can I ask you a question?” he asks, swivelling his chair around to face him.

Junhwi nods his chin toward him. “Shoot.”

Hansol bites at his tongue. He considers asking about Myungho before he changes his mind. “It’s about the shoot with you.”

Junhwi frowns a bit, head angling in confusion. “You having second thoughts?” 

“No, I’m just,” Hansol pauses and looks down at his lap. “Do you mind if we don’t tell anyone how it came about?” He doesn’t exactly want Myungho to know he bartered for a chance to prove himself to him.

“Oh. Yeah, sure, of course” Junhwi agrees, intrigued. “I wasn’t in a rush to tell anyone anyway. If they ask, we’ll just say it just happened. Product of circumstance.” 

Hansol sighs, relieved. “I did have one more request though,” he adds nervously. 

Junhwi hums, considering it. “Alright. You got a selfie and a booking with me so I guess you can have one more easy condition to be fair.”

“It’s about my friend, the one who’s a fan of yours…” Hansol says, nibbling at his lip. 

Junhwi chuckles. “The one who keeps texting you? Sure, what do they want?” 

Hansol blinks, stunned. “I’m not sure yet. I’ll ask him and get back to you.”

Junhwi gives a sort of soft smile, nodding. “Okay. But I’m surprised you’re using your request on someone else instead of yourself.”

Hansol tightens his lips in his mouth, unsure how to answer. “Sorry, do you mind if we continue this later? I have to start calling the departments to set up for my shoots,” he says in a slight rush. “Myungho-hyung isn’t here so….”

“Of course,” Junhwi courteously replies, smiling and bowing his head slightly. “I’ll be back at lunch? Good luck with your shoots, Hansollie!” He gives a small ‘Fighting!’ gesture and sees himself out.

Hansol sighs in relief, thinking it will give him time to figure out what he wants to tell Junhwi about Myungho. He quickly checks his phone for the messages from Seungkwan he had to ignore while Junhwi was here. 

One is just a shocked sticker and the other is _‘!!!!! OMG Hansol!!! Okay good luck! I’ll work really hard today too!’_

Hansol grins and sends a thumbs up sticker back. He shuts his phone screen off and presses it to his chest. 

+++

Minghao frowns. He’d opted to make use of his day off by taking a long walk around outside, ready to take some pictures, clear his head after his talk with Mingyu last night. 

He’d walked quite a few blocks, taking photos of whatever had caught his eye. Among these were a train crosswalk, a couple of store fronts, and a wonderfully bright skyline with calming trees as he crossed a bridge.

It’s when he comes across a shop and spots vibrantly purple primroses next to some lavender flowers that he stops. After a few shots, he lowers his camera and stares at them, fingers going up to idly fiddle with his earring and wondering if Junhui still even liked flowers.

It seems like he can’t escape Junhui, he can’t escape their memories of shared time and what they almost were. 

Minghao let Junhui go, let him leave and then rooted himself deep in their past, continuing their lost intimacy all on his own, pretending it never ended. Minghao held Junhui close to his heart, buried him so deep down he couldn’t possibly be fished out, so he could never really leave, and thought time would take care of the rest.

Junhui’s return dispelled this, disrupting his world, just as he always did. It made Minghao confront it, the ghost of Junhui he buried so deeply in his veins, the shadow of Junhui that still loves him, straining to survive in the essence of the real one. The one Minghao had pushed away, the one Minghao still wants to reach out for and hold close. 

By now, they’ve been apart for longer than they ever were together, but Minghao still finds that the past chaining him to Junhui still rattles, pulsing through him and calling him back.

Minghao had fooled himself into thinking he was healing when all he was doing was coasting by on survival. Maybe he has to stop telling himself that breaking up with Junhui was what he wanted. He knows it was right but…. 

Minghao reaches into his pocket to pull out his offensively buzzing phone. Seungkwan has sent a number of texts in the past few minutes with a similar theme. 

_‘Myungho-hyung, are you okay? Hansol told me you’re not in today!! Hyung, what’s wrong?’_ with emojis ranging from crying to concern and finally anger. _‘Mingyu-hyung said you were drinking with him yesterday. Myungho-hyung!!!’_

Minghao sighs, smile poking at his lips. _‘I’m fine, Seungkwan-ah. I just took the day off.’_ He attaches a cute sticker and hopes that pacifies him. _‘Shouldn’t you be booking things for Mingyu right now?’_ he quickly adds, immediately pocketing his phone and not really expecting a reply.

He figures he’s been standing outside this store front too long when a clerk appears in the doorway and gives him a soft smile, watching him. Their body language reads like they’re tentatively questioning whether Minghao needs help or wants to buy something. 

Minghao thinks it over a few more times, staring at the primroses that call him to Junhui and takes a deep breath to himself.

*****

_Minghao comes back in from his date with Junhui at the pottery place and finds Mingyu setting the table for dinner._

_He would’ve brought his little rice bowl home but the process took several days so his bowl is being stored there until they can go back to trim it. Apparently. That’s how the staff member explained it anyway._

_Mingyu looks up as Minghao stands in the dining area doorway. “Oh hey, there you are!” He grins, turning back to the kitchen to get more dishes out. “You’re just in time. Your walks are getting longer.”_

_Minghao’s chest thumps as he walks closer. “Ah.” He gives a safe non-reply, nothing Mingyu can grab onto and analyze. Not confirming or denying anything. Maybe that’s what Minghao has to do._

_“I made beef!” Mingyu announces proudly, gesturing for Minghao to take a seat at the table_

_Minghao nods, slinging his bag off and sits down. He feels a bit stiff somehow, unsure if he should really be eating but Mingyu gestures happily and eagerly moves his hands about, scooping up rice, beef and side dishes._

_Minghao keeps quiet, he doesn’t really know what to talk about anyway. Certainly not his recent date with Junhui. He considers asking what Seungkwan has been booking him for lately. That seems safe._

_“So,” Mingyu starts, voice upbeat and slightly nervous, “you’re going on those nature walks a lot more because you started at that company, right? Like since you have a fixed schedule now?”_

_Minghao nods, chewing the rice and beef strip in his mouth. “Mm-hm.”_

_“You said it was Junhwi’s company, right?” Mingyu’s voice is getting higher and a bit more hesitant._

_Minghao nods again. “Yeah,” he exhales quickly and hopes it doesn’t come off as dismissive._

_“You don’t really talk about him much anymore and you work together now,” Mingyu notes. “Did something happen?”_

_Minghao pokes his tongue against the inside of his cheek, under the guise of picking something out of his teeth. “What do you mean?”_

_Mingyu hums, eyes still cast downwards as he reaches to grab more food. “I just… last thing you said was you had a crush on him and you were in pretty deep. Now you’re working together and you stopped talking about him so I was just wondering….”_

_“If you were right?” Minghao asks, feeling slightly threatened._

_“Huh?” Mingyu’s head slightly flinches back._

_Minghao blinks, chopsticks grabbing at some more rice. “About whatever you heard from your— never mind. Anyway, I know you don’t like him and” —he quickly clears his throat— “I figured listening to me talk about my crushes is kind of annoying, right?” He shrugs, trying to stay nonchalant but probably comes out more awkward. “Especially if it’s someone you don’t like.”_

_Minghao tries to be careful, trying to figure out how to phrase things so that they’re not technically lies. He doesn’t want to lie to Mingyu but he can’t tell him the truth either._

_“Oh. Right,” Mingyu affirms just as awkwardly. There’s a few moments of silence before Mingyu continues. “How did you meet him again?”_

_Minghao frowns, grabbing some more beef strips. “As a client. For a portfolio shoot.”_

_“You booked him or he booked you?”_

_“Mingyu, where is this going?”_

_“I’m… just curious.”_

_Minghao lets out a breath. “I booked him.”_

_“Oh.”_

_Minghao finishes his food, looking around at the empty plates. “Do you need me to help you do the dishes?”_

_Mingyu shakes his head. “N-no, I uh, I have to make a call first. You should go ahead and shower. You smell weird… kinda earthy. Probably from your walk.”_

_Minghao nods mindlessly and goes to grab a fresh set of clothes from his room. When he looks towards Mingyu on his way to the washroom, Mingyu does have his phone pressed to his ear, waiting. He spots Minghao and waves, smiling and gestures for Minghao to go ahead with his shower._

_+++_

_During the week after their pottery-making date, Minghao notices that Junhui’s name doesn’t appear as often for shoots anymore. He usually does shoots for Junhui at least once or twice a week so not seeing it feels a bit weird. He has one with Junhui this week but in the following weeks, they’re far more scattered. Minghao doesn’t know if he should bring this up with him._

_At their shoot this week, Junhui asks if Minghao would just be okay watching movies at his apartment for their fourth date, which is technically their third full week dating._

_“I don’t have anything sketchy planned, I swear! I’m just tired. I don’t wanna go out,” he whines, dramatically dropping his body about back and forth. “But I still want to spend time with you so is that okay?”_

_So Minghao agrees because he trusts Junhui and doesn’t see the harm in watching movies. He gets to Junhui’s apartment, vaguely remembering it from that time he brought a drowsy Junhui back with Jisoo after meeting Ahn Hyejin._

_Junhui greets him with a wide smile and has guest slippers set up for him. He says he has the first movie set up already and they’ll just be on the couch in the living room and reiterates that nothing has to happen._

_Minghao nods continuously, lightly tapping at the side of Junhui’s neck. “Yes, I believe you, hyung, let’s watch,” he states firmly, walking toward the couch first._

_Junhui has picked out a few Mandarin dramas and Minghao spends most of it leaning his head against Junhui’s shoulder, who stretched his arm out behind him a long time ago._

_In the middle of watching an action scene in the first movie, Junhui suddenly speaks, “Hey, Xiao Hao?”_

_“Yeah?”_

_“I’ve been thinking about what you said,” he leads slowly._

_Minghao tilts his head up at him. “You’re going to stop wearing hoodies so much when we go out?”_

_Junhui purses his lips in offense, turning his head away, chuckling. “I already told you I would consider your styling choices,” he protests, looking back at Minghao and softens his voice. “I meant, I was thinking of trying acting again.”_

_Minghao sits up to look directly at him. “Wait, what? Really?”_

_Junhui nods. “You said it would be a shame to waste my acting and that stuck with me. I already talked to the acting department director and he said I can come to the set to try some stuff out. He’s really nice, he said he’ll help mentor me and stuff.”_

_“That’s…” Minghao breathes out, mostly speechless. “I didn’t think you were actually still thinking about that.”_

_At the time, Minghao thought Junhui was likely just saying he would think about it to be polite and maybe get a flushed reaction out of him. Since then, Minghao had actually forgotten about it himself, too distracted by the test shoot, the whole hiring ordeal, worrying about Mingyu, and sorting out his feelings in the whirlwind of dating Junhui._

_But Junhui hadn’t forgotten. He hadn’t forgotten about that small comment Minghao made to him all those weeks ago over lunch in that small Chinese restaurant, took it into consideration and wanted to do something about it. It meant that much to him._

_Junhui tilts his head, pouting. “You’re okay with this, right? You’ll still be my fan and everything?” he asks, blinking away at him innocently._

_Minghao’s head starts nodding automatically, eyes closing as he quickly kisses him as a sort of reassurance. “Of course. I always will.” He pulls back, brushing some of Junhui’s stray bangs from his face. “I’m still shocked you were thinking about that.”_

_“Of course!” Junhui replies cheerily, unabashedly proud. “You think I don't listen to you? And don’t worry, I’ll still do modeling shoots on the side when I can.”_

_“Is that why your shoots started disappearing from my schedule?” Minghao asks, frowning slightly._

_Junhui nods. “Yeah. It’s just because I’ll be at the acting department more.” He squints, leaning closer to inspect Minghao’s face, illuminated only by the TV screen. “You’re not mad, are you?”_

_Minghao pouts slightly, embarrassed. “No.” Even_ he _thinks his voice sounds like a defiant toddler._

_Junhui pokes Minghao’s cheek, holding his finger there. “Did you think I was cheating on you with another photographer or something?” he teases, grinning._

_Minghao tightens his lips in his mouth, eyes looking away._

_Junhui sits up and wraps his arms around him, hugging him close. “Aw, you’re so cute!”_

_“Shut up, hyung. It’s a valid concern!” Minghao protests as Junhui lets go of him._

_“I know it is.” Junhui nods, pursing his lips again as he leans back against the sofa. “But it means you like me so I’m happy.”_

_Minghao huffs, not bothering to deny it, and leans back against Junhui, head on his shoulder._

_The movie continues for a few more seconds before Minghao asks, “Did you wait to tell me specifically when we’re watching a movie?”_

_Junhui laughs. “Come on, Xiao Hao, at least pretend to be a little impressed.”_

_Minghao chuckles and weakly slaps Junhui’s chest. “Jun-hyung?”_

_“Yeah?”_

_Minghao shifts a little, settling a little closer to Junhui. “I’m glad you told me. I’m sure you’ll do great.”_

_Junhui hums and doesn’t say anything else, only leans his head against Minghao’s._

*****

Junhui returns to Minghao and Hansol’s photography studio at lunch time, carrying a takeout box that Jisoo had gotten him from a nearby restaurant. 

He tells Jisoo he’s eating at the photography studio today and that Jisoo can eat with Jeonghan and Seungcheol if he really wants, trying to make a joke about how they don’t always have to eat together just because he’s his manager. 

When Jisoo points out that Minghao isn’t even there, Junhui counters by saying, “What, I can’t spend more time with Hansollie? You didn’t want me to go there earlier because of Myungho so I’m not.” 

Jisoo just stares at him, slightly suspicious, but lets him go, distracted when Jeonghan tries to show him something on his screen again and Junhui sends him a secret thanks.

Junhui gives the studio door another tentative knock, peering in. Hansol is comfortably leaning back in his chair, ruined by Junhui’s presence as he scrambles to sit upright and make himself look presentable. He has his own takeout box on his desk, which comforts Junhui slightly.

“You’re not having second thoughts about our deal, right, kid?” Junhui teases, taking in the slightly widened eyes and tense posture.

“Junhwi-ssi,” Hansol utters, trying to tidy up his desk. He gestures for Junhui to take a seat in Minghao’s vacant chair. “No, of course not.”

Junhui chuckles softly to himself and closes the door behind him. When he sits down in Minghao’s chair, he walks it over to Hansol’s desk, putting down his takeout plate. 

“How’d your shoots go?” Junhui asks, snapping apart the takeout-provided wooden chopsticks.

Hansol hums, bobbing his head as his eyes stay on his food. “I had just one this morning but it was fine. It was a bit tricky without hyung but it was one of those things that’s like exciting but scary at the same time.”

Junhui hums, smiling politely in return. He thinks he’s heard Minghao say that a few times about shoots too.

They eat for a bit while Hansol seems to be gathering his thoughts and Junhui is fine to wait until he’s ready. Soon enough, Hansol clears his throat, wiping at his mouth with a napkin. “So I have my own theory, but why does me telling you about Myungho-hyung mean so much to you?”

Junhui lifts a brow. “What, that I’d trade a booking for it?”

Hansol nods and chirps out an easy, “Yeah.”

Junhui sighs, leaning his cheek against his fist, poking around his takeout box. “He said something really weird before he left yesterday. You were there. You could probably tell it had to do with us dating before. I was sure I knew what we were but now,” he replies, offering an unsure smile, “I don’t know what it means.”

 _“And you want it to mean something?”_ Jisoo’s voice bitterly rings in his ear.

Of course he does. Junhui bites on his tongue.

He was scared that Minghao was giving him hope again. Hope at a chance again, hope that didn’t make sense, after Junhui was sure it was pointless. Junhui wants that hope explained, even just a little bit. Even if it’s not directly from Minghao at this point. He’ll take what he can get.

He doesn’t want to believe a little too soon and fall on his face again. 

Hansol bobs his head rhythmically, pursing his lips in thought as he watches him. “Do you think it will change anything?” he asks, tone gentle but serious.

Junhui shrugs lightly. “Depends what you tell me.”

“Right.” Hansol nods, gulping slightly. Nervously, he prefaces by saying, “This is just how I’ve seen hyung act.”

Hansol explains how Minghao was like when he first started: cold, brusque, closed-off, easily irritated —especially so when it came to something about Junhui, it seemed— and that he kept everyone at a distance, buried himself in his work. It took Hansol close to a year of carefully following instructions before Minghao warmed up to him.

“I think we had a weird client or something but I mimicked them after they left the room and forgot hyung could see me. He looked at me and I thought he was going to scold me so I said ‘Sorry, sunbaenim’ like usual but he just said ‘That’s hyung to you,’ and turned away. But he was smiling! After so long! It was so weird,” Hansol recounts, still somehow in awe. 

Junhui chuckles although his heart hurts a little at hearing how Minghao was almost immediately after Junhui left. Junhui didn’t understand, Minghao was the one who said he wanted to end things. Why would Minghao be so bothered about Junhui leaving? 

Hansol explains other things, like how Chan had told him about a ‘Moon Junhwi’ rule soon after he started, how he caught Minghao looking up Junhui’s articles, news, magazines, but then quickly ending the conversation if someone tried to bring them up with him. Junhui is slightly worried about those but it’s Hansol’s next claim that catches Junhui’s attention. 

“Hyung sometimes plays jazz music during shoots.”

“That one I know,” Junhui says, nodding, “he used to do that before too. He really liked old English jazz songs.” He’s a bit excited as he throws that out there, eager at something he actually recognizes about Minghao amongst these stories, the first sign that the Minghao he knew was still there.

“No,” Hansol quickly replies, frowning and cutting Junhui’s excitement off. “They weren’t in English. I would know.” 

He takes out his phone and seems to be looking for something. Soon enough, he sets his phone down on the table and a song starts filling the room. It has a sort of jazzy, R&B twang before Junhui recognizes his own voice, singing in Mandarin. 

“Wait, isn’t that—?”

Hansol nods quickly, lowering the volume but still letting the song play. “Yeah, it took me a while to figure it out but hyung would usually play this song. Whenever I asked about it, his answer was always ‘I like jazz,’ so I thought it was just an old Chinese song he was attached to.” He looks over at Junhui. “Then I found it’s your song for a drama you were in.”

Junhui’s chest thumps. So Minghao kept his promise, he was still his fan after all. 

Hansol’s eyes scan his face. “My friend sent it to me when I watched the drama with him. What’s the song about?”

“It was a song they wanted me to cover as an OST,” Junhui says slowly, gently shaking his head and trying to figure out the best phrasing. “It’s called The Night Is Too Dark. It’s just about… being comforted from your sorrows in the dark… with alcohol.”

Hansol stares at him, expression impassive. Then he chuckles, shaking his head as he looks back down at his food. “No wonder hyung likes it.” 

Junhui sends him a questioning look. 

“Mingyu-hyung told me that Myungho-hyung drank a lot of wine after you left,” Hansol explains. “But I guess it helps that you’re the one singing it.”

They both seem to let that hang in the air as Junhui finishes up his food, leaving the plastic tray behind, waiting for Hansol to finish so he can gather them both up to toss out. The song eventually ends, making Junhui wonder just how long they were quiet like that without him noticing. Hansol stops his phone from playing another song, leaving them both in silence. 

Hansol pokes around at the last of his food. “I think hyung still thinks about you a lot. He tries to act like he doesn’t, and I’m not sure why, but he does. Hyung talks about you like you’re something important he lost.” He pauses and with a serious tone, says, “I don’t think I can say much else. The rest should come from hyung.”

Junhui clears his throat. “We were arguing yesterday because I asked him if he regretted me leaving and he said no,” he says softly, a bit delicate, mostly to himself. “After all this, why would he tell me that?” 

He’s not exactly expecting an answer to his question. He mostly threw that out there, out of a strange longing in his heart that he can’t explain or control, but Hansol suddenly perks up. 

“I asked hyung about that once. He told me ‘Hansol-ah, sometimes things happen and you just have to adapt. Sometimes it hurts and it sucks but you’ll learn to grow from it. It doesn’t always mean it was a mistake,’” he recites, trying to imitate Minghao’s voice. 

Junhui stares down at the table, chuckling at the impression despite the stinging at his eyes. It really sounded like something Minghao would say.

“Jun-ssi?” Hansol asks, a bit hesitant and timid. “Do you mind if I ask why you left?” 

Junhui quickly squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head. “I uh, Myungho wanted to break up and uh” —he licks his lips— “I didn’t have any other reason to stay here so….” 

Hansol’s brow furrows and tilts his head like a confused puppy. “I thought, I thought you broke up with Myungho-hyung.” 

Junhui shakes his head, blinking away again. “Is that how he tells it?” 

Hansol seems further confused, like Junhui just threw him a puzzle piece for a chess game. Hansol’s finger starts drawing in the air like he’s trying to add something up. “Hyung said he was throwing up in a toilet the next day so I thought you broke up with him so you could leave.”

“I, uh.” Junhui forces a small chuckle and hopes his voice doesn’t crack. “Believe me, I was there. Myungho said he wanted to break up and I— You think I wouldn’t remember this?” he asks in a soft voice. 

Hansol doesn’t say anything, which is fine because Junhui isn’t expecting him to. He feels a bit bad for the energy in the air he’s caused.

Junhui really believed that he was the only one that suffered, that Minghao left him because he didn’t care anymore, suddenly stopped loving him and threw him away because of it. It was all he had to go on and Junhui spent too many nights trying to figure out why. 

Seeing Minghao so unaffected by his return upset him, more than he wanted to admit, and had him believe that all his fears for the past few years were true. He tried to hide it, pretend he wasn’t hurt by covering it up with anger and forced indifference. Because he figured if Minghao didn’t care, then why should he?

Minghao doesn’t regret their breakup, doesn’t think it was a mistake, but it doesn’t mean he stopped caring about Junhui in some way. Junhui’s been so clouded by his idea that Minghao either had to be in love with him or plain disregarded him that he failed to consider any other possibilities. He figured he was just foolishly desperate. 

_“That’s not stupid,”_ the Jisoo in his head reminds him. _“You wanted an answer to something and you asked for it. You don’t always get the one you want, that’s all.”_

Junhui stands up, gathering their waste to throw away.

“Are you and Myungho-hyung going to be okay now?” Hansol tentatively asks after him, gaze fixed on him.

Junhui squishes his cheeks up in a pressed, appreciative smile, strained as it is. He guesses that would be part of why Hansol would do this, outside of their agreement. “Hard to say.”

“You…” Hansol says, staring off to the side. Junhui worries Hansol might have noticed something off in his voice. “If hyung told you he regretted it, what would you have done?” 

Junhui takes a slow, deep breath as he stares at the trash bin, and angles himself so Hansol can't see his face. “I don’t know, I didn’t think about it.” He heads towards the door, opening it but pauses before leaving. “I’m going to go talk to Jeonghannie-hyung. Whatever my next shoot is, it’s you.”

“Right,” Hansol says in an unsteady voice. Junhui wonders if he’d somehow forgotten about that throughout their talk.

He pats the door frame, turning back. “Thanks, Hansollie. It was great chatting with you,” he says, smiling. “We should do it again sometime.”

Hansol gives a polite bow of the head, patting his knees. He looks like he wants to say something, like wish them good luck or whatever but he stays silent, swaying himself back and forth in his chair a little. 

“Oh, one more thing,” Junhui says. “You can call me hyung if you want. We’re friends now, right?” 

Hansol stares back at him, a little stunned and gives another nod. “Thanks, hyung.”

Junhui smiles and takes his leave. He does think that Hansol reminds him of Minghao, but it’s a bit surface level and doesn’t go too far beyond photographers using him for their portfolios. There’s someone else Hansol reminds him of and he’s not completely sure who yet.

He wanders back to the seventeenth floor, intent on finding Jisoo and hoping he’s still hanging out with Jeonghan. His eyes are downcast as he steps out of the elevator, flickering up to check Jeonghan’s desk as he approaches.

“Junnie?” Jisoo’s voice asks, full of concern, and Junhui hears the even beat of footsteps moving toward him. “What’s wrong?” Then there’s a tentative hand on his arm and Junhui bites his lip, unable to hold back anymore. 

His hands slip under Jisoo’s arms and pull him into a hug Junhui desperately needs right now. He does his best to hide his eyes in Jisoo’s shoulder, a bit of a challenge due to his height, but he feels the tears start free-falling, stinging that Junhui tries to assuage by pressing further into Jisoo’s shirt, knees weakening. 

He knows he can’t hide it, not when his voice breaks as he says “You were right,” and his back starts hiccuping. Jisoo’s arms wrap around him, a bit protectively, a bit concerned, and Junhui feels a hand gingerly rubbing up and down his back. 

He thinks he hears Jeonghan saying something and then the sound of swiveling computer chair wheels but his mind filters everything else out. 

Junhui wanted to be over Minghao, told himself he was. He was hurt, angry with himself when it wasn’t true and tried to act like he didn’t care either since that’s how he thought Minghao was.

But Hansol told him a different story, one of a Minghao that still cares about him in some way, cared about him all this time and probably still loves him in some sense. Just not in the way Junhui wants, not anymore. 

He whispers out a choked, “I’m sorry,” towards Jisoo’s shoulder that gets gently shushed and the hand on his back goes up to the back of his neck.

Junhui takes a deep breath, shaky as it is, and he thinks the anger is melting from his heart. The anger he held onto all this time, the anger he used to protect himself, frustrated at the answers he never got, the void of questions Minghao left when he walked away, the indifference he thought Minghao had for him all along, even when he came back. 

He knows he’s been unfair to Jisoo, to Wonwoo, snapping at them for breaching the subject of Minghao, dismissing their concerns to hide how hurt he was when they got too close. Jisoo probably knew this whole time. But Junhui thinks he can let it go now. 

So Minghao isn’t in love with him anymore and Minghao doesn’t regret breaking up with him, but at least now he knows it doesn’t mean Minghao doesn’t care about him. That should be enough for now.

Junhui doesn’t think he’s okay with it yet, not completely anyway. But he hopes one day he will be.


	7. Even if it'll disappear immediately tomorrow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaand we're back on outline :D  
> This one is a bit long. I needed these scenes and I needed them together so there was no place I was comfortable cutting, pacing/arc-wise. I hope no one minds. My justification is that there are two timelines going on and they both gotta breathe. I'll try to cut them in half next time unless no one minds this length.  
> y'all still better be listening to Junhao's Chinese The King OSTs .-. 
> 
> Chapter title is from Sweet Dream by Universe Cowards  
> Text in [square brackets] are still in Mandarin.

_After telling Minghao about his plans to try acting again, Junhui asks if Minghao would like to come watch his practice sessions._

_Of course, Minghao says yes. Partially out of curiosity and partially out of his want to support Junhui. Luckily, he finds time where he doesn’t have a shoot, mainly after, since he figures he can edit later anyway._

_The first time Minghao went to the set with him, Junhui introduced him to the acting department director, Choi Siwon, who Minghao thinks has a well-kempt image of a politician but he isn’t here to judge._

_He seems to affectionately refer to Junhui as “Heechullie-hyung’s son” —Minghao says affectionately because Siwon has a wide cheesy grin whenever he says it— and gives Minghao permission to stay on the set with Junhui as long as he doesn’t distract him and stays quiet. Minghao agrees and wants to think it’s because Junhui introduced him as “my boyfriend, Myungho.” He does like the sound of it, smiling when Siwon calls him “Heechullie-hyung’s son’s boyfriend,” mouthful as it was._

_The first exercises Siwon has Junhui run through are solo, mostly to get him used to acting again. Minghao notices that although Junhui is trying his best, he’s a bit stiff and slightly shaky._

_“You’re too nervous, hyung,” Minghao says during a break and reaches for Junhui’s hands. “Relax, you’re doing fine. Focus on Director Siwon-nim, he’s helping you.” He pulls their hands over to his chest, squeezing reassuringly._

_Junhui nods, eyes still shaky. He looks over his shoulder to where Siwon waving him back, grinning as he says, “Heechullie-hyung’s son, come!” again._

_“Hey, it’s fine. I’ll be here,” Minghao reassures with a bright smile._

_Junhui lets out a deep breath, nodding as if psyching himself up and bouncing on his toes. He quickly presses his lips against Minghao’s temple and mumbles a sweet-sounding, “Thanks,” before he bounds off, forcing Minghao to release his hands._

_Junhui performs the next scene exercise far better this time, enraptured in his lines. There’s an odd sense of pride swelling in Minghao’s chest as he watches him._

_+++_

_Minghao drops by Junhui’s acting exercise sessions a few days later. He’s had to miss a few due to his own shoots and editing but he’s sure Junhui understands._

_When he shows up, he respectfully greets Siwon, thanking him for letting him stay and watch Junhui. Siwon is still courteous, grinning when he sees Minghao and lets him know how Junhui’s been doing with his acting._

_“He’s picking up stuff really well, it’s great,” Siwon says, beaming. “I’ve brought in some actors for him to bounce off of and he’s falling back into it pretty easily.”_

_He gestures over to where Junhui is going over his script with another actor —an older man— and is absorbed in the notes the other man seems to be giving him, nodding intently._

_“That’s great to hear,” Minghao replies, bowing his head a little at Siwon._

_Siwon smiles and goes over to Junhui. He says something to him, throwing a thumb over his shoulder. Junhui looks around until he meets Minghao’s eyes. Minghao thinks it’s cute how his face lights up as he waves at him but quickly brings his attention back to the other actor._

_Minghao finds a seat as usual, intent on watching Junhui practice and ready to encourage him again if he needs it._

_During the break, Junhui jogs up to him, presses a quick kiss to Minghao’s lips and smiles sweetly. “You can go home if you want.”_

_“Huh?” Minghao asks, pouting._

_Junhui bounces on his toes and quickly glances back at the other actor before looking at Minghao again. “It’s just we’ll probably be here for a while and I don’t wanna keep you if you’ll just be sitting there.”_

_Minghao sighs, looking down. “I guess I do have some editing to do. I just wanted to support you.”_

_Junhui smiles and lightly taps the end of Minghao’s nose. “You’re cute. We’ll spend time together later. I’m just going over some stuff with sunbae.”_

_Minghao starts nodding. “Yeah, okay.” He taps at the side of Junhui’s neck as he gets out of his chair. “Text me when you’re done or if you need anything.”_

_Junhui chuckles. “I will.” He jogs back to the practice session with the other actor and Minghao hesitantly leaves, unsure of the feeling forming in his stomach._

*****

Minghao gets home with a sigh, toeing off his shoes and going to the kitchen to look for an empty wine bottle to put his bouquet in for now. 

He stares at them, delicately adjusts their petals a few times with his fingers since he doesn’t know what else to do with himself. 

Minghao doesn’t know what came over him but he went and asked for a bouquet of the primroses from the flower shop he passed by on his walk. Specifically the purple ones that caught his attention in the first place. Because they called him to Junhui.

On the way to the counter, he had passed by a separate pot of flowers that caught his eye. They were showy and wide with paper thin ruffles of petals delicately bunched up around their centre. They also somehow reminded him of Junhui, the Junhui he remembered. Bright, vibrant, always pulling Minghao to him in some way. 

Minghao asked the clerk about them who told him they were buttercups. Minghao quickly agreed to let the clerk add some to his bouquet, specifying that he only wanted the yellow ones. 

So now Minghao has this bouquet of purple primroses and yellow buttercups that remind him of Junhui. He considers keeping them here for himself until their inevitable death. But for one reason or another, he also considers giving them to Junhui, wondering what Junhui would think if he actually gave this to him. 

He considers if Junhui would just get more upset at Minghao, for digging up their past and showing it to him. Would he ask Minghao why he’s giving him flowers now when he said he never would while they were dating? Minghao sighs, wondering if Junhui still even has the gift he gave him instead.

Minghao’s phone buzzes again from his pocket. He pulls it out to check some messages from Seungkwan. 

_‘For your information, hyung, I have been booking things for Mingyu-hyung!’_ with a sticker with its tongue sticking out.

It’s followed by _‘Myungho-hyung! Hansol sent me this today! It’s too bad you stayed home’_ with several sad faces. The sad faces are not what Minghao’s focusing on though. It’s the attached selfie of Hansol with Junhui. 

Minghao doesn’t know how to read this. He checked the schedule before he left yesterday, there were no shoots with Junhui. When he zooms in on the background, he recognizes it as their studio, it’s not even a photoshoot set. Why is Junhui there? Why are they taking selfies? Did Hansol somehow convince Junhui to let him practice taking pictures with him? Didn’t they just meet? 

He doesn’t know what’s going on but he doesn’t like the feeling flaring up in his chest. Why is he so focused on analyzing the details of this one picture?

_‘Seungkwan-ah, what did Hansol say when he sent that?’_

Minghao stares at the screen, the wait for Seungkwan to read and reply feels excruciatingly long. 

_‘What do you mean? He just said he’s there with Moon Junhwi and not to text him too much since Junhwi-ssi was asking why his phone kept going off’_ with a pouty-eyes emoji at the end. He sends a follow up of _‘Apparently I send a lot of messages’_ with an embarrassed sticker almost right after.

Minghao spins his phone around between his fingers, not sure what to do. Something small like that shouldn’t bother him, Junhui stopped being his long ago. But it still prods at his mind and he wants to call Hansol, ask if he’s working on something with Junhui, if Junhui came by for a special request, if Junhui asked to just sit and watch him edit like he used to with Minghao. 

He looks over at the bouquet, as if asking it to advise him somehow. 

He thinks he wants to go into work tomorrow. 

+++

Junhui manages to compose himself for Jisoo, who in turn, had gotten Jeonghan to give them space. Jeonghan lets them use an empty meeting room where Junhui explains to Jisoo what Hansol had told him and what he figured that meant for him. 

He tells Jisoo everything, like he used to, why he was scared, angry, and frustrated, why he thought he couldn’t talk about it —“because saying it out loud would make it real and I couldn’t face that yet”— and why he was convinced that this is what he had to do. 

Jisoo doesn’t say anything for the most part, mostly letting Junhui let his thoughts out, only humming occasional noises to let him know he’s still listening. 

When he finishes, Jisoo says a small, “Junnie, I don’t blame you,” with an encouraging smile. And, of course, says he knows. He figured it out a while ago. 

“Back when you met Mingyu-ssi’s manager.” 

For some reason, Junhui doesn’t even feel surprised. He wants to ask how but he’s not sure if it would really make a difference. In a desperate sort of whisper, Junhui asks, “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Jisoo smiles, warm and comforting, almost honey-like. “Would you have listened to me then?”

After some thought, Junhui concedes that he probably wouldn't have. In hindsight, he thinks he would have tried but he might’ve still been blinded by his belief that Minghao threw him away out of pure apathy rather than focus on anything else. 

At the end of the day, Jisoo drops Junhui back at his building and walks him up the stairs. Junhui has mostly calmed down by now, the only evidence of his earlier breakdown are his messy, slightly puffy eyes that are mostly recovered anyway. 

“Actually,” Junhui says as Jisoo tries to lead him up another floor, “I want to see if Wonwoo’s home.” 

Jisoo eyes him for a few seconds and agrees. 

They get to Wonwoo’s apartment where Junhui knocks and calls a loud “Wonwoo-yah!” at the door. It opens a few moments later and Wonwoo appears, glasses in place and expression not having looked like he rushed over despite Junhui’s shout. 

Wonwoo’s eyes quickly scan over them. He seems to take in Junhui’s form, the steady look on Jisoo’s face and Junhui hopes Wonwoo knows. “Yeah, okay.” He opens the door wider, gesturing for Junhui to come in, face suddenly serious. 

As Junhui takes his shoes off, he notices Wonwoo and Jisoo exchanging a few words and Junhui pretends it’s not about him. Jisoo calls out that he’s leaving and Junhui thanks him, promising that he owes him a meal at some point. 

Wonwoo closes the door and heads to the kitchen, gesturing for Junhui to go to his editing bedroom like before. “Go ahead, I’ll bring you tea.”

So Junhui does just that, sitting at the edge of Wonwoo’s bed, looking around at how little the room has changed since he was last there a few weeks ago. Once Wonwoo comes back, he passes one of the two mugs he’s carrying to Junhui and takes a seat at his computer chair. 

As he sips, he watches Junhui over the rim of his mug, not saying anything. He also doesn’t turn his attention to the computer either, likely because of something Jisoo said to him. Junhui hopes it’s not because of the literal sad state of his eyes. 

Junhui sips at the tea, the warmth burning down his throat in a comforting way. He lets out a deep breath, staring at his mug. “I’m sorry.”

Wonwoo quirks his head. “For what?”

Junhui blinks a couple times, feeling his eyes start to well up again. “For being dismissive or snapping at you when you tried to talk to me about Myungho.” 

“Oh Junnie,” Wonwoo coos, standing up with his mug. He sits beside Junhui on the bed and pats his knee. “It’s okay, I know how you felt about him and you were just… really hurting.”

“Yeah,” Junhui breathes out, unsteady, “but still. I know you were trying to help and I was just angry and frustrated with myself so I just… took it out on you and it’s not fair.” He lets out a heavy sigh. 

“Hey.” Wonwoo sips at his tea again, tapping frantically at Junhui’s knee. “If I say I accept your apology, will it stop you from crying?” 

Junhui sniffles, chuckling a little. “It might.” 

“Okay, then I accept your apology,” Wonwoo says quickly, as if to prevent the tears from even starting. Junhui takes a deep breath in and Wonwoo rushes in first, “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

Junhui leans his head on Wonwoo’s shoulder, tired. “I talked to Myungho’s assistant. He told me things, like how Myungho plays my drama song and… I don’t know, all these things about him. Myungho probably didn’t leave me because he didn’t care but, it makes it harder to be angry and I just— he said he didn’t regret the breakup, and I don’t know why I hoped he would but… I don’t know.” 

Wonwoo hums and lets that sit for a while. “What are you gonna do?”

Junhui huffs a trilled breath between his lips. “I don’t know, figure out how to be okay with it, I guess.”

“Hm?”

Junhui looks down, straight into the mug. “I know I still have… an attachment to Myungho, and knowing that he’s not completely indifferent to me helps but” —he takes a deep breath— “if I’m not what he wants then I have to figure out how to be okay with that, right?”

Wonwoo doesn’t say anything for a few seconds. Eventually he hums again, the pitch lower, and leans his head against Junhui’s, once again patting his knee. 

They finish off their tea in silence and keep hold of the empty mugs. 

When Wonwoo reaches to take Junhui’s mug from him, in a low quiet voice, Junhui asks, “Can I ask for a favor?” He pauses, thinking. “No, two favors. Can I ask for two favors?”

Wonwoo grunts, fond smile forming on his lips. “Sure.” 

“Can I stay here and cry for a while?”

Wonwoo nods. “Obviously. And the second one?”

Junhui takes longer to answer, feeling himself pout and his eyes travel around while he thinks it over.

*****

_Minghao makes time at the end of the week to visit Junhui at the acting department._

_When he gets in, he sees Jisoo off to the corner, focused on his phone and likely taking care of things for Junhui while Junhui himself is practicing again with a different actor than Minghao saw last time._

_This one looks younger, handsome with strong eyes, Minghao thinks he looks like he came out of a Japanese manga. He seems closer in age to Junhui than the previous actor and Minghao can tell he’s more comfortable with him._

_Before they get started, Junhui shows this actor his hand and the other laughs, grabbing it with both hands and patting the top comfortingly. There’s an odd twinge of something burning in Minghao’s chest and he tries to ignore it for now. He knows Junhui has a charm to him, able to draw people to him quickly and Minghao briefly lets himself worry about whether anything Mingyu said about Junhui's constant flirting was actually true._

_It’s not like Minghao hasn’t been subject to it himself._

_They go through a script and Junhui stumbles on some words that the actor seems to walk him through, holding his hand. Siwon also walks over to give him some words of encouragement._

_Minghao thinks it’s great that Junhui is improving and has such supportive seniors, but he’s also a little sad and he doesn’t quite understand why. He wonders if that’s strange._

_Junhui doesn’t visit him during the break._

_+++_

_For their date that weekend, they go back to get their pottery, the final touches having been finished, according to the texts they received._

_Junhui proudly shows off his tall rectangular cat creation, the embossed dull eyes and whiskers noticeably shiny. “He’s perfect.” He makes a point to dip his hand in to show his physical emptiness._

_Minghao looks down at his simple rice bowl, already making plans to paint it himself later, and then to Junhui’s cat. “He sure is… something,” he replies, smiling._

_The staff wrap them up in newspaper and place them into paper bags for them to take home._

_On the walk to Junhui’s apartment, Junhui playfully shoves Minghao with his shoulder. “So did you get to think about what you’re going to give me that I can put in my cat vase?”_

_Minghao snorts. “Oh, he’s a vase now?”_

_“Yeah, he’s too tall to be a bowl,” Junhui returns, sighing dramatically._

_Minghao hums, shifting the bag to his other hand so he can grab Junhui’s hand. “I have thought about it. I want to get you something that won’t die,” he says in a light voice, smiling._

_“You know I was just teasing you before, right? You don’t actually have to get me anything.”_

_Minghao giggles. “Ah, but I’ve already sworn to it. I made a promise to you and everything. Gotta be a man of my word, remember?” he replies theatrically, to Junhui’s own surprised giggles._

_At Junhui’s apartment, Junhui offers Minghao a bowl of cut fruit, which he accepts and heads off to the sofa while Junhui lingers in the kitchen. When Minghao checks what he’s doing, he sees Junhui set his cat vase on his kitchen counter, safe against a wall and pats his head before rushing back to Minghao on the sofa._

_“So how have your acting exercises been?” Minghao asks, swivelling around to lay his legs across Junhui’s lap, leaning his back against the armrest and poking at his fruit with his fork._

_Junhui opens his mouth and Minghao takes the hint, holding a melon cube in front of Junhui for him to eat. “It’s going great,” he replies around his melon, “all the sunbaes are so nice! The last sunbae I worked with even kind of reminds me of you.”_

_Minghao frowns around his apple slice, unsure if that’s a good thing or not, wondering if that’s the manga-looking one. “Do you still get anxious?” He idly tosses a kiwi slice around in the bowl._

_“Kinda. But it’s okay.” Junhui opens his mouth again so Minghao gives him the kiwi slice. “You don’t have to come as often anymore if you don’t want to.”_

_Minghao’s frown deepens. Of course Minghao_ wants to, _but he can’t tell if that sounds like Junhui’s ushering him out, telling him he doesn’t need him anymore because he has his acting seniors now. Especially one that reminds Junhui of him. He doesn’t know how to feel about that but there’s an odd feeling in his stomach._

_Junhui pats Minghao’s knee and he looks over to see Junhui waiting with his mouth open again, smiling. Minghao sighs and stabs at a pear slice, feeding it to Junhui which he happily accepts._

_+++_

_Minghao makes it to another of Junhui’s acting practices. This one is a bit different as Minghao has a magazine shoot with Junhui the next day. He’s not sure why he wanted to come but he’s here._

_He spots Junhui practicing with a script on his own but he is soon approached by a girl that Minghao recognizes as Kim Yongsun from the test shoot, also holding a script._

_The two start chatting and Junhui shows her his palm, opening and closing his hand. Yongsun’s expression turns concerned, eyes going from his hand to his face. She tucks her script under her arm and takes hold of his hand with both of hers, sandwiching it, to Junhui’s giggles._

_As Minghao feels another twinge of something ugly in his chest, he sees Junhui looking around until he spots him, waves, then points with his free hand and says something to Yongsun. She follows Junhui’s line of vision until she meets eyes with Minghao and her face blossoms into a wide smile, taking one of her hands off Junhui’s to wave at him._

_Minghao responds with a shy wave and she gives a thumbs up before putting her hand back on Junhui’s. Siwon approaches the pair and points out some things to them in the script that they take in and nod along before he runs off and asks them to start._

_He’s not exactly sure what the script is about; Minghao filters out most of what they’re saying because he’s too distracted by how whenever they go through this, it involves them arguing, Yongsun storming off, Junhui grabbing Yongsun’s wrist, spinning her around, leaning close and caressing her cheek. On one occasion, he even lifts her chin with his hand._

_Minghao is thankful whenever Siwon tells them to stop but not so much when he gives Junhui pointers and tells them to do it again. Because there’s a dark feeling growing in Minghao’s heart. It rakes across the inside of his chest, and he does not like it one bit._ It’s work, it’s fine, _he tells himself._

_After a few run-throughs, Siwon calls for a break. Junhui proudly shows Yongsun his hand and she giggles, patting him on the shoulder. They part for the meanwhile as she looks at something her manager is showing her and Junhui bounds up to Minghao, plopping himself in the chair next to him._

_“What happened?” Minghao finds himself asking. “What’s with your hand?”_

_“Oh!” Junhui exclaims, showing Minghao. “I was super nervous when we were starting and noona was helping me. I was kind of shaking,” he admits._

_“Oh,” Minghao says, pouting as he takes Junhui’s hand for himself, squeezing it. “Is that better?”_

_Junhui chuckles nervously, nodding. “Yeah.”_

_Minghao wants to say something stupid, like he wishes Junhui would just come to him next time, that he’d hold Junhui’s hand to support him if he asked, that Junhui doesn’t need anyone else to do it because Minghao is here. But he doesn’t, he just quietly holds Junhui’s hand until the break is over._

_When Siwon calls them back from break, Junhui says a reluctant, “Gotta go,” presses a kiss to Minghao’s forehead, and then rushes back._

_Junhui shows Yongsun his hand again and she claps, smiling wide. Minghao thinks the dark twinge comes back when Junhui helps pull an eyelash off Yongsun’s face. Junhui seems to say something that embarrasses Yongsun, as she hides her face in a giggle and playfully shoves Junhui. Minghao has to bite his tongue and look away._ That’s definitely not work.

_The next scene they run through is slightly more subdued, more conversational but the lines are delivered softly and somehow that makes them more intense in Minghao’s eyes. He still thinks that Junhui is incredibly wonderful at acting._

_At the end of the session, Junhui jogs back to Minghao, who notices he is being tailed by Yongsun._

_“Junnie!” she exclaims when they both stop. “You were great today! I told you you could do it!” She surprises Minghao by hugging Junhui, which he returns._

_“Thanks for your help, noona!”_

_Yongsun still has her bright smile when she pulls off. “Of course! Come to me anytime, that’s what I’m here for!” She turns to Minghao. “And you! You got in, congratulations!”_

_Minghao quirks his head and blinks a few times. “Oh, yes, thanks for your help. And thanks for helping Jun-hyung today,” he says politely, bowing his head._

_“That’s alright!” she reassures cheerfully._

_Minghao slips his hand into Junhui’s —for no particular reason— and laces their fingers together._

_Yongsun seems to notice as she giggles. “Oh right, you two are together now!”_

_Junhui chuckles. “Yeah. He came to support me.”_

_Yongsun claps, giddy, as she looks between their faces. “That’s so cute!” Then she turns to Minghao, face trying to be serious but the corner of her lips are still tugging upward. She leans close and blocks the side of her mouth from Junhui like she’s telling Minghao a secret. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of him for you whenever you can’t make it,” she says in an exaggerated whisper._

_“O-oh,” Minghao sounds out, a bit stunned. “Thank you, Yongsun-ssi.”_

_She backs up and flips a hand down at him, shaking her head. “You can just call me ‘noona’ since we’ll probably see a lot of each other.”_

_Minghao nods, still nervous as she takes her leave, once again pulled away by her manager. Speaking of, Jisoo comes up to them, eyes focused on his phone and tells them they should get going._

_As they head to the car, Minghao knows the dark possessive feeling in his chest doesn’t make any sense. Junhui chose him, Junhui wants to be with him._

_The dark stabbing feeling doesn’t make any sense but it’s there anyway. Minghao knows Junhui’s not going anywhere and Mingyu is wrong. Right?_

*****

Minghao does come in the next day. It’s a Friday and he knows it makes no sense and that Jeonghan is going to give him some sort of razzing for it. But he wants to talk to Junhui, lugging the bouquet of primroses and buttercups he got yesterday. He doesn’t know if they would somehow remedy the years and hurt between them, if they could heal Junhui’s resentment towards him, but he wants to try.

He also wants to talk to Hansol, somehow try to figure out what was with that selfie Seungkwan sent yesterday, the one of Hansol with Junhui. He doesn’t want to acknowledge the burning in his head when he thinks about it, _why_ he keeps thinking about it. 

_Minghao, focus._

When he gets to the studio room, it’s empty, thankfully. Minghao puts the bouquet on his desk, off to the side, planting himself in his chair and boots up his computer. As his screen starts loading up, Hansol walks in, slightly stunned.

“Hyung…” he utters as he makes his way to his own desk, closing the door behind him. “I thought you were taking the rest of the week off. Are you feeling better?” His voice is oddly tense.

Minghao gives a small bow of the head. “Hansol-ah,” he says, smiling. “I’m fine, don’t worry. Although I don’t know why you sent Seungkwan after me,” he teases.

Hansol seems impatient, clicking away at his computer as it boots up. “I didn’t. Yesterday he told me to tell you he said hi and I said you weren’t here. He freaked out.”

Minghao hums, opening up his email and calendar, slightly disappointed the mention of the selfie didn’t come up. “How were your shoots yesterday? Sorry to leave you alone like that.” He quickly types out an email to Jeonghan that he’s here today. He doesn’t mention that it’s Friday because he doesn’t want to draw attention to it and hopes Jeonghan won’t either.

Hansol seems very focused on his screen, rushing to click at something and type away as it finally loads up. “They were fine, it's okay, hyung. It was a good experience. Did you want to go over my photos?” 

“Uh, sure. I can do that in a bit,” Minghao replies, distracted by something on his screen. 

Jeonghan doesn’t usually ping him over the company messenger. Usually, if for some reason Minghao has to speak with him, he asks him to come up to his desk or just emails him. This time, however, Jeonghan pings him. Aggressively.

_‘Myungho. Seo Myungho. Xu Minghao.’_

He sends several in a row, each as their own individual bubbles, even trying to phonetically spell out Minghao’s Chinese name with Hangul.

_‘Seo. Myung. Ho. You. Better. Answer. Me. What. Did. You. Do.’_

Minghao frowns. _‘What do you mean what did I do?’_

_‘Junnie put in a request to specifically have Hansol take over his next shoot. Normally, you do them but he said that it has to be Hansol. Therefore you must have done something. What is it? You’re lucky I didn’t submit it to Cheollie yet.’_

_‘He what?’_ Minghao has a weird feeling twinge over his skin and suddenly the blinking dots on Jeonghan’s end are taking far too long to disappear.

_‘Read it again :) Junnie. Put. Request. You. No shoot. Hansol. Shoot.’_

There’s a dark stabbing feeling at Minghao’s heart, sinking into his stomach _._ His first thought is wondering if Junhui did this as a sort of backhanded ‘fuck you’ for running out at lunch, for being selfish, for hurting him, anything. 

He looks over at Hansol, remembering how enthusiastic Junhui was talking to him, how he nicknamed Hansol almost right away. At first, Minghao thought Junhui was doing that just because he was lashing out, but now he wonders if there might be another reason.

_“[It’s just my personal preference to nickname people I like.]”_

He’s reminded again of the selfie and tries to shake that out of his mind. Lastly, Minghao gets a brooding sense that it was Junhui’s way of saying he didn’t trust him anymore, even as a photographer.

All possibilities sounded horrible and he wants to figure out which one’s real. 

Minghao bites his lip, turning back to his screen. _‘Look I’ll talk to him. Don’t submit it to Seungcheol-hyung yet. Please.’_

The blinking dots on Jeonghan’s end dance for far longer than Minghao would like before he sees a new bubble. _‘… ok but only because you asked so nicely.’_

Minghao sighs in relief, despite his heart still pounding. He looks over again, wondering if Hansol was aware that Junhui requested for him. Minghao doesn’t have doubts about Hansol’s abilities, he knows Hansol can handle himself during shoots well so there was no problem there.

However, being ushered out of a connection with Junhui is something he selfishly doesn’t want to do again. He has to remind himself that he gave up the right to be possessive over him and he really shouldn’t be that bothered by it, but he is. 

If it really is because Junhui doesn’t trust him anymore, Minghao wants to talk to him. 

If it’s for another reason, however….

“Hansol-ah, what happened yesterday?” Minghao asks, trying very hard to sound nonchalant. 

“Uh, I did two shoots for the acting department.”

Minghao gulps. “That’s it? No modeling department business? No other problems or something from, say, Shua-hyung maybe?”

Hansol’s face remains confused, unmoving besides the puzzled blinking. “No? Were you expecting something?”

Minghao clears his throat. “No but uh, no one mentioned anything about lunch the other day?”

Hansol’s eyes narrow slightly and shift back and forth. Minghao can’t tell if he’s thinking or suspicious of something. 

“Hansol-ah?”

“Hyung, give me time, you’re acting really weird and I’m not used to it.”

Minghao frowns. “What do you mean weird?”

Hansol makes a choked sound, sputtering. “I don’t know, you’re not usually this tense and stuttery! You usually just ask if there’s something specific you want but this time it feels like you’re dancing around something.” He frowns. “I don’t know how to read you like this.”

“Hansol-ah,” Minghao says as more of a sigh, “just tell me what happened yesterday.”

“I told you, there were two actor shoots.”

“And?”

“I edited them and wanted to show you for approval.”

“And?”

“Hyung, there is no more ‘and’!” Hansol protests, slightly distressed. 

Minghao’s brow furrows, tempted to ask about the selfie with Junhui he sent to Seungkwan. But he doesn’t want to sound accusatory, especially since it seems like this is something Hansol was just dragged into. Minghao knows the issue isn’t with him.

Hansol pouts slightly. “Am I in trouble for something? Is this because I told Mingyu-hyung to check on you the other day?”

Minghao closes his eyes and sighs. “No, of course not. You’re not in trouble either. I just… got a weird message from Jeonghan-hyung.”

“Oh,” Hansol choruses, tilting his head back in an exaggerated nod. “Did you _want_ to talk about the lunch the other day? I know you were upset by Junhwi-ssi and all but….” His voice is uncertain as he throws the offer into the air, almost as if he were unsure if he was allowed to mention it.

Minghao smiles, grateful for the gesture. “Thanks for the offer, Hansol-ah, but it’s fine. I just needed some time to think.”

Hansol’s head dips in a hesitant nod. Then tilts his chin towards Minghao’s desk. “What’s with the flowers, hyung?” 

Minghao’s attention snaps back to them, suddenly remembering their existence. They’re laying in front of him, still vibrantly yellow and purple, mocking him. “They’re um…” he stalls, suddenly feeling like his plan seemed stupid now. 

_They’re for Junhui. Or they were supposed to be._ Just like Minghao.

“They’re a gift,” Minghao replies uneasily and turns away from Hansol. 

“Oh,” Hansol hums simply. To Minghao’s relief, he doesn’t say anything more.

Minghao stares at his screen that just has his exchange with Jeonghan on screen, cursor blinking at him. 

*****

_The day after Junhui had an acting exercise session with Yongsun is his shoot with Minghao._

_Minghao is a bit tense about it but he somehow hopes Junhui doesn’t notice._

_The shoot goes well, it feels like Junhui hadn’t really stopped modeling at all, picking it right back up. The acting has probably helped, he’s still very much comfortable with the camera, following Minghao’s directions._

_It’s a bit harder for Minghao because all he can see is Junhui with Yongsun, Junhui saying he doesn’t need Minghao to come see him anymore, Minghao being replaced somehow, Junhui with the handsome actor, Junhui with Yongsun. It’s like it’s been burned into his brain. He feels sick._

_At the end of the shoot, Junhui offers to stay behind with Minghao while he packs up again, saying it’s been a while since he’s done so. Jisoo is slightly apprehensive but says he’ll wait in the car._

_Minghao gets a text from Mingyu, saying that he was going to be hanging out with Eunwoo, Jaehyun and Jungkook tonight. It was Friday afternoon, just about to dip into evening, so Minghao doesn’t really blame him. He replies with a simple ‘_ ok, have fun, be safe!’ _text and leaves it at that._

_Junhui leans against a wall just behind Minghao, scrolling through his phone. Minghao tries very hard to focus on packing away his equipment but he still can’t get the thoughts out of his head._

_Minghao finishes tucking his equipment away and stops moving, lingering so Junhui still thinks Minghao has more to do. He’s been pretending (and failing) that he’s not still bothered by the dark stabbing in his chest and burning in his brain. But now he feels paralyzed._

_After about seven minutes, Minghao calls out a nervous, “Hyung?”_

_“Yes, [Xiao Hao?]”_

_Minghao looks down at his hands, idly drumming the table. “I like you. A lot.”_

_He hears Junhui sputter out a few chuckles. “I like you a lot too,” he replies in a jovial tone, a bit like he doesn’t know why Minghao is saying this all of a sudden and is humoring him right now. “That’s why we’re dating, right?”_

_“Right,” Minghao exhales, nodding to himself. That’s not exactly how he thought that would go. His eyes travel over all his equipment, unsure what else to do because he doesn’t want to leave unless the burning’s gone. He tries again. “Hyung?”_

_“Yes?”_

_Minghao bites his lip and turns around to see him. “I’m jealous.”_

_Junhui looks up from his phone and meets his eye. “Of?” he asks curiously, like he’s trying to be careful._

_Minghao takes a sharp inhale through his teeth. “The actress you were with yesterday.”_

_Junhui’s eyes look up to the ceiling, darting left and right, thinking. “Oh, Yongsun-noona? You met her before, remember?”_

_“Yeah,” Minghao huffs out, the sound a little tired._

_Junhui grins. “She’s really pretty, right? But you’re pretty too, [Xiao Hao], don’t worry about it,” he replies casually. His eyes go back to his phone and continues scrolling, bobbing his head to himself._

_“Hyung, I’m serious,” Minghao insists, voice firm._

_Junhui’s eyes move to him again. He lets out a small breath and clicks his phone screen off. “Okay,” he says, putting the phone in his pocket and he walks up to Minghao. “What’s going on?”_

_“I’m jealous.”_

_“I know, you said that,” Junhui chuckles, leaning forward to grab his hands. “Of what, exactly?”_

_Minghao just stares at him, pouting slightly._

_Junhui chuckles again. “I’m not laughing at you, I promise. You’re just really cute,” he says, covering his mouth with his hand. He clears his throat and wipes his smile away, rejoining his hands with Minghao’s. “Okay, I’m good, go ahead.”_

_“I mean, I know it’s just work but you were_ really _close with her yesterday. You were just really close and really touchy and you looked really good together. Then she’s holding your hand to calm you down when, I don’t know, I thought you needed me. But then you’re saying not to go to your practice sessions and she’s saying she’ll take care of you instead so then— And I just, I don't know, I can't stop seeing it in my head and it bothers me.” Minghao frowns after his hurried spiel, realizing how stupid and childish it sounds once he says it out loud._

_Junhui thinks for a few seconds, eyes staring into Minghao’s, making him feel exposed. “Ah, okay, I see now,” he exclaims, leaning his head back. “What would you like to do?” He tightens his grip on Minghao’s hands and swings them lightly._

_“Hyung?”_

_Junhui nods, firm and reassuring. “I really like you and I don’t want you to feel that way, so what would make you feel better? Whatever it is, I’ll try to do it.”_

_Minghao frowns. He didn’t think about it because he didn’t think he’d get this far. “Well, I obviously still want you to go to your acting sessions. I don’t know, I don’t know why I’m like this.”_

_Junhui playfully pouts. “I thought it was because you like me.”_

_“I do,” Minghao affirms quickly._ Maybe a little too much. _He wonders to himself when he got comfortable saying that. “I just didn’t think I’d be_ jealous _or whatever.”_

_Junhui wiggles their hands back and forth. “Well, when I said you don’t have to come to the sessions anymore, I meant if you have other stuff you have to do, I don’t want to keep you. I still appreciate when you’re there.” He places a quick kiss on Minghao’s forehead. “The actor sunbaes help but you’re special.”_

_“Special?” Minghao timidly repeats, still pouting a little._

_Junhui giggles, ducking his head away, slightly embarrassed. “Yeah, it’s like, I feel calmer when you’re there but I’m also more excited to do my best?” He pauses and presses his lips together. “I don’t know if you know what I mean.”_

_Minghao licks his lips, nodding. “I think I do.” He tries to ignore how his ears are probably flushing up._

_“Will it help if I say I’m not using my lines on anyone else?” Junhui offers with a teasing lilt in his voice and a small coy smile. “I’m still only letting you deal with all of them.”_

_Minghao’s eyes search around a bit, away from Junhui’s face since he’s embarrassed at the moment, mulling it over. He pouts, nodding. “It helps.” He pulls a hand away from Junhui’s grip. It slides under Junhui’s ear to hold the back of his head as Minghao leans forward to kiss him, parted and slightly clumsy._

_It’s chaste, born out of Minghao’s frazzled emotions that screamed for a closeness to Junhui during his awkward confession of jealousy. Minghao feels Junhui let go of his other hand, gently pulling him closer. Minghao’s mind goes blank, melting, as an unfamiliar but completely welcome warmth blossoms its way through Minghao’s body, as if to dispel the worries and fears he had, washing them out. Minghao can’t help but smile, ending the kiss, pulling back just enough to look into his eyes, breath intermingling._

_“Is that better?” Junhui quietly asks, smirking at him._

_“Hmm.” Minghao playfully draws out the sound. “Maybe a bit more, just to be sure.”_

_Junhui chuckles. “Oh, of course, wouldn’t want you to be unsure.”_

_Minghao smirks, satisfied with this answer, and claims Junhui’s lips with his own again. It’s more sure this time and Minghao pulls him closer. Their bodies press together and Minghao pushes on them enough for Junhui to end up back against the wall he was leaning on earlier._

_He’s not sure if he’s getting carried away, too swept up by the feeling of being held by Junhui like this but he presses harder into Junhui’s lips, slipping his tongue between them, slightly anxious but Junhui lets him. One of Junhui’s hands slides up his back and Minghao doesn’t know how long they’ve been like that until he moves off to kiss along Junhui’s jaw._

_“By the way,” Junhui breathes out softly, “Yongsun-noona’s dating someone.”_

_Minghao starts nodding mindlessly, panting and moves to place kisses at Junhui’s neck. “Oh, is she?” he asks, not really sure if he cares about the answer._

_“Mm-hm, if you get her tipsy enough, she doesn’t stop giggling while talking about them.”_

_“Interesting,” Minghao mutters, moving back up to press a quick kiss to Junhui’s mouth as Junhui’s hand slides down to his waist. “Do you always talk about other people while someone’s trying to make out with you?”_

_Junhui chuckles. “Keep my mouth busy then.”_

_Minghao smirks. “I’m working on it.”_

*****

Minghao steps out of his studio room, intent on finding Junhui. He doesn’t know what he’s going to say to him but he wants the burning to get out of his head. He needs to find out why Junhui put in that request and what he means by it. 

To his luck, Junhui’s right outside the hall, eyes focused on his phone but looking like he’s headed toward the studio room anyway.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Minghao snaps, rounding on him.

“Walking?” Junhui replies, backing up slightly, looking completely confused and surprised. “Being attacked?”

“What’s with that request you put in?”

Junhui raises his brow. Minghao bites his tongue; is Junhui really going to pretend he doesn’t know what he’s talking about?

“You put in a request to Jeonghan-hyung for Hansol to take over your shoots?” Minghao hastily reminds, quickly brushing his bangs back and Junhui frowns. “If this is because of what happened at Shua-hyung’s lunch—”

“You think this is about you?” Junhui cuts in, face blank. There’s no malice when he says it but Minghao’s heart pangs anyway. “You were gone and Hansollie was there. That’s it.”

Minghao clears his throat and shakes his head. “It was one day. I’m back now so I can do them. I know the process better than anyone.”

“I didn’t know it was going to be one day,” Junhui replies, frowning in confusion. “Are you saying you want me to rescind the request?”

“Yes,” Minghao answers too quickly. 

“Why? You don’t think Hansollie can do them?”

“He probably can, but he doesn’t have to.”

“You let him do other things, don’t you?”

Minghao huffs. “This is different.”

“How? Do you not have faith in him?”

“Of course I do. But that’s not the issue here, why are you defending him so hard?”

“Why are you attacking him?”

“I’m not, but you can’t just bypass me to request for my assistant.”

“Jeonghannie-hyung said I could,” Junhui says with a small pout, tilting his head. “Why are you so mad? It’s not a big deal, right?”

“I… [Because it’s my job, Junhui! Don’t insult my work by going around me!]”

“[How is that insulting your work? You don’t have to shoot for me, you can do other shoots, can’t you?]”

“[Why do you want this so bad?]”

“[Why are you so against it? You weren’t here, Minghao, what do you expect me to do?]”

“[You could have just waited for me! That’s what I did when you—]” Minghao’s chest hurts. He pauses and takes a breath, his earlier riled-up emotions filtering off. 

“What?” Junhui’s voice also deflates, frowning. It starts sinking in that Junhui’s gaze is heavily on him and Minghao finds himself feeling too exposed.

“I…” Minghao tightens his lips in his mouth, keeping his eyes downcast. They both know they’re not talking about the request anymore.

After a few seconds, Junhui steps closer. “Why do you keep doing that?” he asks, voice low, soft, almost whispering.

“Doing what?” Minghao returns just as quietly. 

Junhui tilts his head and hums, one hand coming up to gently brush Minghao’s hair away from his ear. “Saying something weird and then clamping up.” His eyes are focused on Minghao’s ear, inspecting it. “[You were so straightforward before.]” 

For some reason, Minghao just stays still and lets him keep his hand hovering there. Junhui’s hand isn’t directly touching him but he still feels warmth there nonetheless, or maybe it’s just his own ear flushing up. He doesn’t know what to think or say or how to move so he just breathes, which all still somehow feels unusually heavy. His heart rattles against his chest, trying to reach out and move closer to Junhui. 

Junhui’s scent is unfamiliar, heavier in citrus tones than the floral Mingaho remembered. He wants to know when and why Junhui changed it, he wants to know small random things about Junhui, just like before. He doesn’t think he can ask so he settles for breathing the deep citrusy tones in for now, hoping his heart can hold onto them.

“[Junhui, I—]” 

“Hyung?”

They both look over to see Hansol standing in the studio doorway, looking at them. 

Junhui’s hand hastily retracts, taking Minghao’s breath with it. “Hansollie! What’s up?” he asks cheerfully, stepping back.

Hansol’s eyes shift suspiciously between them. “Myungho-hyung stepped outside and I heard arguing. I got concerned,” he says, voice a bit flat and slightly apprehensive. Minghao thinks he looks like one of those kids that wants to get their parents to stop fighting. 

Junhui briefly glances over at Minghao, then looks back at Hansol. “No need to worry, we’re fine!” He beams, giving a small thumbs up.

Hansol seems unconvinced, brow furrowing. “Is this about me doing Jun-hyung’s shoot?” 

Minghao gulps, swallowing down the burning feeling in his throat for two reasons. Hansol knew about Junhui requesting him to do the shoot instead and Hansol called Junhui _hyung_.

He wonders how Hansol had gotten so close to Junhui to call him hyung so fast, what must have happened for Junhui to let him. What could have possibly happened in a day? Does it have to do with the selfie Seungkwan sent him? He doesn’t like the possibilities his mind is coming up with.

There's a tense silence and Minghao belatedly realizes they’re both looking at him, waiting for his answer. Minghao looks between them, Hansol seems slightly anxious and Junhui is watching, somewhat apprehensive. 

“Actually,” Minghao starts, uneasy and not meeting either of their eyes, “do you mind if I speak to Jun-ssi for a bit?” 

Hansol’s eyes widen slightly, moving quickly between them. “Uh….”

Junhui pouts, tilting his head. “What for?” 

Minghao bites his lip, not sure if he can do this in front of Hansol, out in the hallway. 

“[Is it about the request?]” Junhui asks gently, voice still low.

“[I just want to know why,]” Minghao insists. There’s a twinge at the back of his head, one that tells him how hypocritical he’s being, asking Junhui to explain something when he ran off to avoid doing the same. 

Junhui must have realized it too because he’s staring with an expression that says just that.

Minghao squeezes his eyes shut and dips his chin down. “[Does it have anything to do with lunch the other day?]” He tosses it out there, hoping it will dull the pain in his chest. “[If you have time later, I can—]” 

He hears Junhui take a deep inhale. “[It’s just a shoot, Minghao,]” he says in a low voice. “[I… it’s nothing you did. I didn’t think it would matter.]” He doesn’t sound bitter, just slightly sad and carries a tone Minghao doesn’t know how to read.

“[I’d still like to talk somewhere.]”

“[I’m not—]” Junhui rushes out, a little forcibly. He catches himself and sighs. “[I can’t right now. I can’t take back the request either.]”

Minghao’s heart aches again, the dismissal cutting deeper than he would like. 

He idly wonders if it was because Junhui tended to be more carefree, to be easily able to drop something he was upset about. He wonders if Hansol had something to do with it. Minghao slowly moves his eyes back to Junhui’s face, taking it in. His eyes are still intense as ever, boring into Minghao’s soul, eyes that used to only look at him. He thinks he can't be selfish, he has to let Junhui have what he wants this time, after all he's deprived him of before. 

“Okay,” he decides, lips pressing into a smile. He looks away from Junhui, slowly turning back to Hansol. “Fine.”

“Fine?” Hansol echoes, slightly stunned. 

“It’s fine,” Minghao repeats, “do the shoot, Hansol-ah.”

Hansol’s face melts into relief, smiling as he puffs out a few chuckles. “Thanks, hyung!” Then he turns to Junhui, grinning. 

To Minghao’s surprise, Junhui returns the grin and walks towards Hansol in the doorway, wrapping him in an excited hug, saying “Aw, Hansollie!” and mutters something else near Hansol’s ear.

There’s another thump at Minghao’s chest, once again wondering when or how they got so close. When Junhui pulls off his hug with Hansol, he looks around the studio room, stopping when he notices something.

“Oh, you got flowers?” Junhui asks in their direction.

There’s more burning at Minghao’s throat as his heart sinks into his gut. He forgot about them. _Again._ Sitting on Minghao’s desk. 

“Uh, yeah,” is all Minghao is able to say, his throat still hurting. “They’re um.” _They’re for you,_ his chest hurts too much to say it. He glances over at Hansol.

“They’re a gift,” Hansol finishes, presumably reading Minghao’s distressed face and inability to answer. 

“Oh. Cute.” Junhui’s face drops, brow furrowed. Then it’s gone in an instant. “Well, I gotta go. See you at the shoot, Hansollie!” He shoves his hands in his pockets and makes his way down the hall. Minghao watches until he’s out of sight, somehow feeling paralyzed.

Minghao is an idiot. He shouldn’t have run out, he shouldn’t have stayed home. He waited too long, missed his timing. He fucked up.

*****

_To his annoyance, Minghao has to part with Junhui in the middle of their ‘makeout bonding session’ when he gets a call from Seungkwan hours later saying he needs help trying to bring Mingyu home and asks him to meet at a specific address._

_Apparently, when Mingyu said he was going out with Jaehyun, Jungkook, and Eunwoo, it involved far more drinking than anticipated._

_“It’s hard for me to bring him back alone, hyung! Mingyu-hyung is basically a tree!” Seungkwan whines, buckling Mingyu in one of the back seats of the car._

_“Why didn’t you just ask one of his buddies to help you?” Minghao asks, automatically going in the front passenger seat beside Seungkwan._

_Seungkwan rolls his eyes. “You think their own managers or whoever didn’t drag them back?” He pauses, narrowing his eyes as he checks his mirrors. “Why, what were you doing that you’re so grumpy I pulled you away from it?”_

_“Watching a drama,” Minghao automatically replies, straight-faced._

_Seungkwan lets out a hum of suspicion. “I didn’t know you watched dramas.”_

_“They’re Chinese dramas,” Minghao adds. “And what_ do _you know about me?”_

_“You’re the only reason Mingyu-hyung doesn’t make fun of my fashion anymore?”_

_“And don’t you forget it,” Minghao replies proudly, smirking._

_Seungkwan lets out a spurt of laughter that sounds both amused and embarrassed, covering his mouth a little. “By the way,” he starts in a somewhat cautious voice._

_Minghao grunts a small noise of acknowledgement._

_“Mingyu-hyung called me the other week,” Seungkwan says, sparing a small glance at Minghao before looking back at the road. “He was asking if you’ve ever tried to book him for anything before and he just didn’t know about it. I asked why he’s doubting my ability to do my job and we bickered for a bit. I won, of course, but I thought it was weird that he was asking that all of a sudden. Something going on?”_

_Minghao shakes his head, looking around out the windows. “Not that I know of. I don’t know why he’d ask you that but I’m sorry you got caught in the middle, Kwan-ah.”_

_Seungkwan shrugs, unbothered, and hums a happy little noise. “It’s fine, it’s not like I don’t get it. But maybe you should have told him. I’m sure he’ll understand.”_

_Minghao hums. “I did get signed to a company though, so it’s not like I could do any bookings for him anyway.” He suddenly turns to Seungkwan. “He’s been doing okay though, right?”_

_Seungkwan nods. “Yeah, his shoots have been fine. He sometimes makes jokes about having different photographers each time so I asked him if there was any specific one he’d want to book and he said no so.” He shrugs._

_Minghao stares out the window, just realizing he had next to no idea about how Mingyu’s work was going, too focused on his own stuff. He glances back at the sleeping Mingyu in the backseat, head leaning back against the headrest, mouth open._

_+++_

_Together with Seungkwan, Minghao is able to bring Mingyu up to their apartment, large body slung between both of them, with Seungkwan making a big fuss about flinging Mingyu’s shoes off his unconcious, dragging feet._

_“Ugh, just put him on the sofa, it’s closer,” Minghao grunts, quickly checking how far Mingyu’s room is as they move towards the couch._

_Seungkwan has no complaints, letting out a strained groan when they toss Mingyu on the sofa, making sure he’s on his back. When he’s down, Seungkwan makes a sour face, sticking his tongue out at the unconscious Mingyu, mumbling about “stupid tree-hyung.”_

_Minghao also sighs, rolling his neck around for strains._

_“Thanks for helping me, Myungho-hyung!” Seungkwan says cheerfully. He bounds at him in what Minghao can only describe as a care-bear sort of hug, warm and cuddly._

_“Aw, no problem, Kwan-ah,” he coos back, patting Seungkwan’s back. “I’ll make sure he takes care of himself over the weekend.”_

_Seungkwan pulls back, nodding. “You’re the best. I’ll tell you if Mingyu-hyung says any more weird things.”_

_Minghao nods. “I’m still sorry you got caught in this, Kwan-ah.”_

_“Oh, no problem!” Seungkwan beams._

_After Seungkwan has gathered his shoes and left, Minghao goes to get Mingyu some water and looks around for bread. He finds a bun they’d picked up earlier this week._

_“Hey,” Minghao says, lightly slapping Mingyu’s cheek. “Get up, you have to drink this and get your ass to bed.”_

_Mingyu groans and stirs slightly. “Myungho?”_

_Minghao chuckles. “Yes, it’s Myungho. Eat this.” He unwraps the plastic for him and pokes the top of the bun out, not trusting Mingyu’s ability to do it right now._

_Mingyu sits himself up, taking the bun from Minghao. The way he bites into it reminds Minghao of a small child. “Wasn’t I with the guys?”_

_“Yes, but Kwan-ah called me to help pick your ass up. He was concerned.”_

_Mingyu’s eyes fill up with guilt. “I didn’t pull you away from anything important, did I?”_

_Minghao pulls his lips in his mouth. He_ was _enjoying his time exploring Junhui’s mouth but he’s not exactly about to say that. He shrugs. “Watching a drama,” he replies, reusing the answer he gave Seungkwan. “It's fine.”_

_“Ah,” Mingyu hums, nodding as he continues chewing. As far as Minghao is concerned, Mingyu somehow looks like a child that’s worried he’s done something wrong and is waiting to be found out._

_“So did all of you drink yourselves stupid or just you?” Minghao asks, chuckling._

_Mingyu shakes his head. “I wasn’t keeping track but I doubt I was the only one.”_

_Minghao nods, waiting for Mingyu to finish off the bun. Minghao doesn’t even feel surprised when Mingyu shoves the last half in his mouth in one go, unsettling as the display is._

_“So I was thinking,” Minghao starts, watching him carefully, “we should go shopping together this weekend.”_

_“Shopping?” he asks, slightly muffled around the bun filling his cheeks._

_Minghao nods, holding up the glass of water for him. “Yeah. And you can tell me about the shoots Kwan-ah’s been having you do.”_

_Mingyu downs the water just as quickly, passing the empty glass back to Minghao. “Sure. I’d love to.”_

*****

Ever since Junhwi left down the hallway, Hansol has noticed that Myungho’s mood has considerably darkened. He can’t tell if it’s because of their rather intense-sounding argument in the hallway or if it’s because of Myungho’s flowers, now shoved under Hansol’s desk after he rescued them from the trash bin earlier. 

Luckily, the bin was empty due to being the beginning of the day, but Hansol was surprised when Myungho tossed his bouquet in there, as if he somehow had no need for it anymore. When Myungho told him they were a gift, Hansol actually wasn’t sure if he meant someone gifted them to Myungho or that Myungho was the one gifting them.

Either way, he waited until Myungho had stepped out of the studio —either to go to the washroom or speak with someone, Hansol doesn’t know— and fished the bouquet out to hide under his desk beside his feet, taking pity on them. 

He doesn’t really know what to say or how to comfort him, but Myungho’s body language reads as a very clear “Please stay away from me” so Hansol doesn’t try to breach the subject. He guesses whatever he and Junhwi were talking about in Mandarin really got to him. 

He feels guilty, after all, since he knows their argument likely started because of Hansol's promised shoot with Junhwi. He didn't really think it would be that big of a deal to Myungho. Sure, he thought Myungho would notice, but not enough to cause _that._ A bit foolishly, he thought it would be like any other shoot Hansol takes over, just with Myungho paying more attention at the end when editing happens.

He had been hoping that after his chat with Junhwi, things would have started to go better for them, that they'd be able to tell each other things that they'd wanted to hear since Hansol sensed they were on the same wavelength. If Hansol’s being honest, he feels like whatever their argument was felt far too intimate and he shouldn’t have been there, even if he didn’t understand what they were saying. But Junhwi kept giving him warning looks and shaking his head not to leave. When Junhwi had hugged him, he'd said that although Hansol had finished his end of the deal, he shouldn't say anything else to Myungho about the request, that Junhwi will handle it, confusing Hansol further but who is he to argue? 

A ringtone suddenly goes off and Hansol panics, realizing it’s his. He hopes Myungho wouldn’t get upset at him for the sudden intrusion of silence but luckily he remains still so Hansol goes ahead and answers it. “Hello?”

 _“Hi Hansol!”_ Seungkwan’s voice chirps cheerily through the phone. 

“Oh, hi. What’s up?” Hansol replies, eyes drifting over to Myungho, checking for any reaction.

_“Hmm, why do you sound nervous?”_

Hansol shakes his head. “I’m not. Why are you calling? Did something urgent happen?”

_“Oh! Remember when you asked about Mingyu-hyung doing another brand deal shoot with Junhwi-ssi?”_

“Uh, right. Junhwi-ssi, yes.” Back at Seungkwan’s apartment, when Hansol was plagued with thoughts he couldn't tell Seungkwan, downing a glass of halabong juice to hide it. 

_“I managed to get it done! It took a lot of chatting but I’m pretty good at that! Jungsoo-hyungnim is a good friend of mine!”_

Hansol almost chokes on his spit. “What? Wait… oh, oh my god, I meant just tell me _when_ it happens, not _make_ it happen!”

 _“What?”_ Seungkwan replies, sounding starkly offended. _“Are you questioning how well I do my job? You think Mingyu-hyung would last this long if I wasn’t good at chatting up deals?”_

“I… No, I’m not, I just meant—”

 _“Hansol, that’s pretty hurtful. I worked really hard yesterday because of you!”_ Seungkwan’s pout comes through, which just makes Hansol feel worse. _“You sent that selfie and everything.”_

“I am absolutely not questioning that, I just didn’t think you’d—”

 _“Look, you said you’d tell me what was going on if that deal happens. I’m not waiting for those chances so I made it happen!”_ He sounds pretty proud of himself and Hansol doesn’t want to take that away from him. It was probably one of the reasons he liked him to begin with and his heart softens, despite everything.

“Yeah, I get it.”

 _“So you’ll still tell me everything, right?”_ Seungkwan’s voice softens and Hansol can’t believe he’s already this weak for him. 

“Yeah. Yeah, of course. I said I would.” His voice softens too

 _“Great!”_ Seungkwan’s voice perks back up. _“So I’ll see you at the shoot? It’ll probably get added to your schedule soon when Seungcheol-hyung and Junhwi-ssi’s manager sort out a date. You owe me!”_

“Yeah. Yeah, okay. See you at the shoot. Bye.” Hansol hangs up and looks again at Myungho’s back, still unmoving, still only focused on typing away but Hansol knows there was no way he didn't hear. “Hyungie?”

Myungho’s hands pause, likely due to the added cute appeal Hansol was going for. “Yes, Hansol-ah?”

“Um, for the shoot with Jun-hyung,” he breaches, slightly unsteady, “I uh, I would like it if you still came to set. To watch. In case something happens.”

Myungho’s head turns slightly towards him, eyes considering. “Oh,” he says, voice coming out rough, scratchy, unsteady, “yeah, sure. If that’s what you want.”


	8. Memory replay, don't pass me by

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're back~ some of you may have seen me upload and then delete this chapter. Sorry about that. I initially uploaded it to "get it over with" but the more I thought about it, even though I thought it was fine as a contained chapter, I wasn't happy with how some scenes worked out in the overall narrative. I'm far more comfortable with this. 
> 
> Chapter title is from Tell Me by Infinite (basically the song that helped saved this chapter, along with Emily. thank you so much Emily ❤~).  
> Do I need to keep saying that text in [square brackets] are in Mandarin at this point?

_Minghao has promised Seungkwan he’d make sure Mingyu took care of himself this weekend._

_He also told Mingyu they’d go out shopping together. He’d intended for it to be a way to bond, having felt guilty about disappearing so often due to allocating so much of his time to Junhui and work, leaving very little left for Mingyu. Minghao feels especially guilty since he wasn’t yet comfortable telling Mingyu that his time was going to Junhui._

_He texts Junhui that he’ll have to pass on a date with him this weekend since he’ll be spending time with his roommate. Junhui replies with an enthusiastic_ ‘ok have fun! don’t do anything dangerous.’ _When Minghao asks what he means, Junhui launches into a cautionary tale about buying a hot dog machine one time that Minghao doesn’t want to question. He just tells Junhui he’ll text him when he’s done._

_“He's my manager but sometimes I'm the one who has to pull him away from fights,” Mingyu sighs on the walk to the museum, where Mingyu had insisted on going first. It makes Minghao wonder if Mingyu had a list of things he’d been planning to do with Minghao when they both had time._

_Minghao chuckles. “He's just passionate,” he replies with a slight hum. “Or maybe he's way too stressed trying to take care of you.”_

_Mingyu purses his lips and lets out a small groan._

_“He_ did _have to pick you up last night and carry you home. He called you tree-hyung,” Minghao teases, nudging his side. “You should buy him something when we actually hit the mall later.”_

_Mingyu pouts. “Am I that hard to take care of?”_

_Minghao scoffs, gently shaking his head. It was quite the opposite, really. Mingyu was too self-sufficient; he cooked, cleaned, fixed things, did laundry, basically everything as far as Minghao was concerned. Minghao was probably the one being taken care of and Mingyu was the one doing too much._

_“Should I get you something too?” Mingyu continues, voice very much signalling that he’s joking but would probably seriously consider it if Minghao asked. “For helping take care of me?”_

_Minghao clicks his tongue, slapping Mingyu’s side with the back of his hand. “Absolutely not.”_

_When they get into the museum, for the most part, Minghao is able to forget about hiding his relationship with Junhui. He’s able to just spend time with Mingyu like they used to. Minghao doesn’t bring up Mingyu’s call to Seungkwan and Mingyu doesn’t bring up suspicions about Junhui._

_If Minghao focuses enough, it almost feels like they’ve slipped back into how they were before, like somehow the tension and guarded conversations were gone. He wonders if he’d still be able to have this if Mingyu knew about Junhui._

_He wonders how long he can walk this line, not wanting to upset his roommate but also wanting to tell his best friend that he's dating someone._

_On the way out of the museum, Minghao’s phone buzzes. When he checks, it’s a group selfie of Junhui with two of the actors Minghao’s seen him practice with before, one of which was the handsome manga-looking one, along with four other men gathered behind._

‘I'm with some of the acting sunbaes. Send one back so I can show you off~’ _is Junhui’s next message with a small kissy face emoji and a heart._

_Minghao glances at Mingyu, actually considering sending a selfie back just because Junhui asked. He holds his phone up and tries to take a few while walking, holding Mingyu’s arm to lead him so he doesn’t bump into anything._

_Mingyu seems to notice what he’s doing and photobombs a few, most mildly blurry, before they just stop walking to take a proper selfie together. Minghao sends one of himself solo and one of him with Mingyu._

_They continue walking and Mingyu thankfully doesn’t ask why he randomly did that. He just chuckles and says to ask him next time. They get to the mall about ten minutes later when Junhui finally replies._

‘Ah that’s your roommate, right? Hope I didn’t interrupt~ But all the actor sunbaes said you were cute. I’ll introduce you next time~’ _followed by a grinning sticker and a winking sticker._

_Minghao stares at his phone. Normally, he’d be making an annoyed comment back on how Junhui keeps calling him cute out of nowhere._

_But now his focus is on how enthusiastic Junhui was showing him off, and presumably declaring their relationship to people. Meanwhile, Minghao was far too worried to show Mingyu —and by extension, Seungkwan— anything of Junhui. He wonders if Junhui had been wanting to meet ‘the roommate’ too, if Junhui thinks about why Minghao hasn’t introduced them._

_+++_

_“I’ll do the laundry when we get home, don’t worry,” Mingyu says as they walk around, hands full of shopping bags. He had picked out a green dress shirt, under Minghao’s suggestion, and a navy blue baseball cap for Seungkwan. He had tried to buy a long overcoat that Minghao was eyeing up but Minghao refused to let him. Minghao did buy two overcoats on his own though._

_Their heads keep looking around to see if there were any other stores they wanted to hit before they went home._

_Minghao hums, attention catching at a jewelry store. “Hold on, I wanna see something,” he murmurs, feet leading him towards the glass display cases._

_“Hm? You looking for something?” Mingyu asks from beside him, head going back and forth between Minghao and the jewelry he’s eyeing up._

_“Sort of,” Minghao replies distractedly as he keeps walking along the cases, observing the various diamond and silver pieces gleaming at him._

_“Do you know what you’re looking for?” Mingyu asks again, following close behind Minghao’s feet._

_Minghao’s eyes scan over various rings, watches and necklaces, thinking. “Something better than flowers.”_

_“Huh?”_

_Minghao shakes his head as a gentle ‘nevermind’ as he keeps walking. When he looks at them, watches, and particularly rings, feel too forward of a gift for Junhui, especially since they hadn’t been dating that long yet._

_He’s not sure why he wants to pick something out though. There was no special occasion to really speak of and he knew Junhui wasn't serious when he said he was expecting Minghao to get him something— flowers were way cheaper than jewelry anyway— but Minghao feels like he wants to get something Junhui here anyway._

_Mingyu wanders away, presumably to give Minghao space to think, idly looking around the store on his own._

_He briefly considers bracelets and necklaces, trying to imagine Junhui wearing them, if they were even his style. He remembers seeing Junhui’s ear piercing holes during shoots and noticing them when Minghao played with Junhui’s ears while shoving his tongue down his throat and reconsiders._

_His feet quickly move over to the earring section, trying to find something he likes. He thinks anything with diamonds is wildly out of the question, that Junhui might find that too forward. His eyes scan over the display case until he sees something._

_It’s a silver upside-down triangle with two hollow circles stacked on each other inside. It’s simple with no flashy stones on it and Minghao thinks it would look perfect on him. He points it out._

_“Excuse me, can I get that earring set there?” Minghao asks the nearest attendant._

_The attendant smiles politely and pulls the earring from the display, showing him. “This one?”_

_Minghao nods and the attendant gives another smile, ducking down to get the velvet box when Minghao gives another yes to gift-wrapping it._

_“Ooh, got yourself a fancy gift?” Mingyu says as Minghao finishes paying, taking the small bag and giving a small bow to the attendant._

_Minghao brings his lips up in a squished smile. “Something like that.” He hopes Junhui likes it. He hopes Junhui will use it. But he mostly just wants to see Junhui’s face when he opens it._

*****

Minghao gets back from the washroom, taking a seat at his desk, which was now void of any distracting floral arrangements. 

He had to step out for a bit, mostly to splash water on his face and make sure his eyes didn’t look red or puffy anymore after his encounter with Junhui in the hallway. He really didn’t want to alert Hansol that something was off. Well, more than he already saw anyway.

His hand comes up to feel the tip of his ear, wondering if it’s still burning. Junhui hadn't touched him, not directly. But the space where his hand hovered, above Minghao’s ear to brush his hair away, still has a warmth there that sends a tingle along Minghao's skin. He wants to think it means something but also nothing at all. 

There was something dangerous in the way Junhui looked at him then, like Minghao could actually believe that he still had a chance and a reason at hope. For a moment, Minghao wanted to go back and make all the same mistakes with him again. Until Junhui cut down everything in front of Minghao’s eyes.

_“[It’s just a shoot, Minghao. I… it’s nothing you did. I didn’t think it would matter. I’m not— I can’t right now. I can’t take back the request either.]”_

It’s his own fault, Minghao knows that. 

He waited too long, wasted too much time living in his memories with Junhui while stubbornly trying to keep the truth from the one in front of him, and telling himself it was for the best. But in doing so, he missed his chance to reconcile anything with Junhui. He can’t entirely blame him for brushing him off now. 

He replies to Jeonghan’s message, telling him that he spoke with Junhui and he can just submit the form to Seungcheol. 

It’s not his business anymore. 

Jeonghan takes a while to reply, almost half an hour later.

_‘...sorry.’_

Minghao can’t be bothered to guess what he means so he sends a _‘thanks?’_ and leaves it alone. Jeonghan being nice to him after making it his personal mission to pick on Minghao for years felt weird. He’s not exactly sure what Jeonghan is apologizing for though, unless Jeonghan somehow actually feels remorseful for having to give Minghao what he considers bad news. 

Soon, Hansol’s phone goes off and he quickly answers it. Minghao tries to drown out the sound and not pay attention to whatever he’s saying until he hears Hansol say, “Junhwi-ssi.” 

At that point, Minghao tells himself to continue typing emails to the other departments while pretending his heart doesn’t thump around, foolishly and unfairly striking _He was mine_ over and over.

Hansol ends the call with a fond note in his voice, agreeing to various promises and saying, “See you at the shoot. Bye.” 

Minghao blinks quickly and reminds himself that it's a conversation he no longer has access to. 

But then Hansol calls out a cutesy-sounding, “Hyungie?” which was very unlike him —because Hansol generally didn’t do cutesy— and it makes Minghao pause.

“Yes, Hansol-ah?”

“Um, for the shoot with Jun-hyung,” Hansol says suddenly, sounding slightly nervous. “I uh, I would like it if you still came to set. To watch. In case something happens.”

Minghao turns his head, thinking. “Oh.” He figures that it’s better than imagining how the shoot is going from his desk. He wonders if there’s something Hansol could be anticipating and hums out some agreements, not wanting to dwell on that thought even longer _._ “If that’s what you want.”

As he turns back to his screen, Minghao wonders if he caused this too, if it has something to do with why Hansol had stopped asking about needing to book Mingyu through Seungkwan. If he suddenly dropped his crush on Seungkwan somehow, if Minghao caused this by telling Seungkwan that Hansol technically doesn’t need to call him. 

Minghao doesn’t want to think about it so he grabs a pair of round red-tinted sunglasses from his bag to hide his eyes. He just focuses on sending emails to the styling departments, making sure they’re up to date on the notes Minghao wants. 

When it’s time to get ready for their shoot of the day, with a younger model, Minghao gets up, dusting off his pants. “Let’s go, Hansol-ah.”

Hansol looks at Minghao and pauses. “What’s with the sunglasses, hyung?”

Minghao blinks a few times, caught off-guard, and adjusts his collar. “Fashion,” he answers quickly, clearing his throat. “Let’s go.” 

Hansol gives an apprehensive nod and heads to the cabinet to gather the camera and SD cards. He rushes back to Minghao and they leave the studio room together.

“You know, hyung,” Hansol says when they get in an elevator, standing side by side, “about me doing Jun-hyung’s shoot.”

Minghao hums, pushing his sunglasses up and looking straight ahead. 

Hansol takes a deep breath. “It really wasn’t— I’m sorry I didn’t mention it this morning.”

Minghao lets out a weaker noise, not sure how to respond. If he asks why he didn’t, he’s sure to come off unnecessarily accusatory again and he’s not interested in doing that to Hansol. 

“I know I should have earlier when you asked what happened yesterday. It’s just, I talked to Junhwi-ssi yesterday. I thought it would help, like I thought it would be better if you both— I mean,” Hansol says, tripping over himself. “I know your argument with him hit you pretty bad and you guys have that whole history. I don’t know, I thought it would help….” His voice peters out, slightly awkward. 

Minghao frowns. Hansol thought it would help if he did Junhui’s shoots instead. He thinks about what Hansol said the first time he heard about Junhui.

_“It’s okay, hyung, I’ll still help you with Junhwi-ssi if you want.”_

_“Besides, hyung, I told you I’d help you out with Moon Junhwi if you needed it.”_

At the time, Hansol seemed to have meant it as a way to help Minghao avoid Junhui. It’s just too bad that wasn’t what Minghao was interested in this time. But there was no way for Hansol to know that.

“I didn’t know it would upset you,” Hansol adds quietly. 

“I’m not mad at you, Hansol-ah,” Minghao reassures, putting a hand on his shoulder. He wants to say it’s his own fault. He got caught up in his own feelings of misplaced jealousy he didn’t have the right to anymore. But it’s not really something he wants to get into with Hansol right now. Or with anybody, for that matter.

Hansol gives a small disapproving noise. “Don’t be mad at Jun-hyung,” he says, gentle but firm. “Or maybe do, I’m not sure, that’s your choice. But it was my idea and Junhwi-ssi agreed.”

Minghao lets out a soft chuckle, lifting his shoulder and leads Hansol out the elevator doors. He’s not really sure why Hansol keeps switching the way he refers to Junhui, if it’s out of habit or respect for Minghao. It seemed like an odd whim. “He agreed? Just like that?”

“Hm,” Hansol hums thoughtfully. “He wanted to see my portfolio. I had to convince him that I could come the closest to matching your work.”

"He didn’t ask you weird questions, did he?" 

Hansol tips his chin up a bit. “Weird questions like what?” 

Minghao pauses, wondering if Junhui even did that anymore. "Nothing. How was he when you talked to him?” 

“He was really nice, hyung,” Hansol replies, smiling.

“He was?” 

Hansol dips his chin down and Minghao can’t tell if he's shy. “I think he… I can see why you liked him,” he says with a few laughs bubbling through. 

_Thump._ Minghao isn’t sure in what way Hansol means that and he’s a little scared to ask because he doesn’t know if he wants to hear the answer. His mind keeps jumping to odd conclusions that all seem to end the same way. “Ah. Is that what the selfie was about?” 

“Uh?” Hansol fidgets with the camera around his neck a bit, looking downward. “Mm, yeah. I sent it to Seungkwan to show off, I guess. I didn’t know he sent it to anyone.”

Some of Minghao’s saliva gets caught in his throat. _He was mine._ “Show off?”

Hansol hums, nodding and smiling. “I can’t really get into it right now. It’s kind of weird. Are you feeling better though, hyung?” 

Minghao sighs dramatically, comically, slinging his arm over Hansol’s shoulder, wondering how many times the younger boy will have to ask him that. He leans forward. “We’ll see. Thanks for telling me, Hansol-ah.”

As they set up and wait for the shoot to get started, Minghao takes out his speaker and starts playing music again, not looking up. 

“I like jazz,” he says preemptively as the R&B jazz fills the room. 

Hansol replies with a small, “I know, hyung,” and a peek of a smile as the Mandarin starts coming through. He turns back and continues the shoot without further question. 

For the rest of the morning, Minghao focuses on guiding Hansol through his shoots, letting him take over and claiming it’s practice for when Hansol does Junhui’s shoot. Because even if Minghao fumbled his chance to reconcile with Junhui, Minghao at least owes him the chance for a good photoshoot. So he’ll do whatever he can to make sure it goes well. 

So Hansol takes charge and Minghao watches from behind, monitoring. 

He’s not mad at Junhui.

He’s mad at himself, for messing up his timing, fumbling his chances, stubbornly holding onto things he shouldn’t have while pretending he was the one in the right. 

He wonders if he was foolish, thinking his position as Junhui’s photographer was solely reserved for him as long as they were in the same building. It was likely also selfish, hoping he could keep him close that way. 

But Minghao knows all too well that he can’t always get what he wants. 

He thinks it’s good that Junhui is able to open his heart to someone else so quickly, comfortable enough to let Hansol in Minghao’s absence. 

Minghao knows he should have done the same. But for now, he pretends he’s happy. 

*****

_Minghao waits a few more dates to give his gift to Junhui._

_After clearing up Minghao’s jealousy with Junhui’s acting sessions, Minghao only shows up whenever he has time and doesn’t worry about it since Junhui’s also started sending random selfies during break and when he wraps up. Usually, they’re solo but sometimes they’re with Jisoo or his co-actors, mainly Yongsun or Siwon. Minghao starts sending selfies back, especially after Junhui’s complaints that Junhui sends so much and wants to see Minghao too._

_As expected, Junhui replies to the first few with cooing variations of calling Minghao cute, with the occasional heart-stricken sticker. It’s when Minghao tries other angles that Junhui sends a different response._

‘[Aha, see, Xiao Hao, I told you you were pretty~ You could totally be a model too if you wanted.]’ _with a heart-filled sticker._

 _Minghao tries not to think about it too much and sends back_ ‘[Whatever you say, gē]’ _with a cheeky sticker._

_The few times Minghao is able to show up to Junhui’s sessions, Yongsun brightly waves at him, discloses that Junhui sometimes shows off Minghao’s selfies to them, and gives embarrassing updates about Junhui._

_“The other day, he mispronounced one of the lines as ‘hemorrhoids,’” she tells Minghao with a burst of giggles, blocking the side of her mouth with her hand._

_“Noona!” Junhui whines, walking around behind her. He tries to grab her shoulders and shake her, trying to pull her away from Minghao to get her to stop talking._

_“What? It’s okay, it happens! It was cute though! Even Siwon-oppa couldn’t stop laughing!” Yongsun objects, undeterred as she remains still, grinning back at a giggling Minghao. “And your boyfriend deserves to know your set stories when he’s not there. Don’t you, Myungho-yah?”_

_With a comical groan, Junhui hides his face behind Yongsun’s shoulder, unable to look at anyone._

_Minghao beams, chin lifting. “I really do. You’re the best, noona.”_

_Yongsun’s grin grows wider, winking at Minghao while Junhui groans into his hands. Minghao thinks he can see Junhui’s eyes smiling anyway though._

_+++_

_Minghao’s next date with Junhui is at his apartment again, something they’ve slowly gotten used to every so often after both of them started getting tired of sneaking while trying to go out._

_At some point, after some lamb skewer takeout for dinner, Minghao had convinced Junhui to play online shooter games with him. Junhui had the tendency to hide about a lot while Minghao was more headfast, which usually meant he got himself killed more often than not. Usually, he tells Junhui to let himself get killed once Minghao dies so they can start a new game together._

_Right now, Junhui’s laying back on the sofa, head on the armrest while Minghao sits cross-legged on the floor, back against the sofa. Both are on their phones, concentrating on the game._

_This time, when Minghao dies, he’s okay with it and tells Junhui to go as far as he can. He ruffles through his bag beside him, looking for the gift he picked up when he was out with Mingyu. He finds it and holds the small velvet box in his hand, waiting until he hears Junhui make a noise that he’s died in the game._

_Junhui lets out a sigh. “Well, they got me. Did you want to do another game, [Xiao Hao]?”_

_Minghao braces himself and gets up, tapping Junhui’s shoulder to force him to sit up so Minghao can take a seat. Junhui’s head tilts to the side as Minghao takes Junhui’s wrist and places the velvet box in his hand._

_Junhui quickly tosses his phone on the sofa cushion beside him, eyes on the object in his hand. “What’s this?” he asks with a wide grin. “What’s this? [Are you proposing to me, Xiao Hao?]” he teases, shoving Minghao’s shoulder with his. “[It’s pretty early, you know. Did you talk to my mom first?]”_

_Minghao scoffs with a soft smile, rolling his eyes. “[Gē, just open it.]”_

_Junhui seems slightly surprised at the change of address but obeys, prying the box open and looking inside. His expression melts as he stares at the earring Minghao picked out. “[What is this?]” he asks again, more serious this time. His gaze constantly flickers between Minghao’s eyes and the earring in his hand._

_Minghao licks his lips, heart racing. “[So I know it’s not flowers and obviously I’m not going to give you those every month, but I thought it would look good on you. And you could wear it when like, I’m not there on set and stuff. You can think of it like, me supporting you when I’m not next to you,]” he explains in a bit of a rushed ramble. “[You don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to, or if you don’t like it. I just thought—]”_

_“[No, I love it,]” Junhui quickly interjects. He’s beaming as he takes the earring out, dropping the box in his lap to fix the earring into his left earlobe. “[Thank you. How does it look? As good as you thought?]” He reaches over for his phone again, looking at himself in the front camera._

_Minghao hums, moving his hand to Junhui’s chin to get him to turn his head a little so he can inspect it. Minghao brings his phone up to take a few pictures that Junhui happily obliges. “Hmm,_ almost _as good as I thought.”_

_Junhui sputters a few offended noises, tossing his phone and the velvet box to the next cushion over. He shoves Minghao’s shoulder. “Almost? What’s missing?”_

_Minghao puts his phone on the coffee table and leans his shoulder against the back of the couch, staring at Junhui. “You have to tell me if it’s better than flowers.”_

_A wide grin cracks on Junhui’s lips as he nods. “Way better than flowers.” He leans forward to kiss him and Minghao doesn’t stop him, eyes slipping closed and sliding his arm around Junhui’s neck._

_It’s warm and sweet, emptying Minghao’s mind out, replaced only by Junhui and a need to pull him close, impossibly close. And Minghao isn’t one to argue against the heat bubbling up in his core, taking over his nerves._

_He saddles a knee over Junhui’s lap, settling himself there as he cradles Junhui’s face in his hands and works on slipping his tongue into Junhui’s mouth._

_He feels Junhui’s hands on his waist when Junhui pulls his head back a little. “I feel bad now.”_

_“Why?” Minghao breathes out, slightly impatient._

_“I didn’t get you anything,” Junhui says through a small pout._

_Minghao clicks his tongue and brushes some hair out of Junhui’s face. “I don’t care. I don’t want anything,” he replies, smiling, “except for you to stop talking, maybe.”_

_Junhui grins. “Noted.”_

_Satisfied, Minghao leans back down, melding their lips together. When he licks into Junhui’s mouth, it’s slow, deep, and slightly playful in a way that was very Junhui. The warmth bubbling through him to come back, knocking the air out of Minghao’s lungs. He presses forward, closer, in an attempt to get more._

_There are several sighs and moans exchanged between them, hands sliding around, and Minghao feels suspended in time. The only thing he hears or feels or senses at all is Junhui and maybe the blood rushing to his groin. He knows he’s not alone when he shifts his hips a little and Junhui breathes a muffled moan into his mouth._

_And the only way Minghao knows time truly has passed is when Junhui pulls back and his eyes flutter open. The light that was previously bleeding through the curtains is gone, leaving them with nothing but a blue hue blanketing the room._

_“So,” Junhui tries to say before Minghao tries chasing his mouth with his, “as much as I — love having you here — do you need to — get back home soon?” he manages to get out between kisses._

_Minghao hums. “I was thinking… I could spend the night here? With you?” he murmurs against Junhui’s lips before kissing the corner of his mouth._

_Junhui puts his hands on Minghao’s shoulders, pushing him off far enough to properly meet his eye. “Really?”_

_Minghao sits back on his heels. “Yeah, is that okay?” he asks, hoping once again that he’s not being too forward._

_A soft smile spreads on Junhui’s face as he nods. “Yeah. Yeah, it’s okay.” He stands, carefully maneuvering both of them up. Minghao’s legs wrap around Junhui’s waist for security, earning him a groan as Junhui walks them in what Minghao is hoping is the direction of the bedroom._

_As Junhui does that, Minghao places small kisses under Junhui’s ear, right near the earring, smirking when Junhui breathes out a strained “Hao,” and pushes him against the bedroom wall._

_Minghao learns a lot of things that night. Junhui’s sheets have a red and white triangular pattern, Junhui makes a lot of cute whiny noises, the earring Minghao picked out makes anything Junhui does look way prettier, and time spent with Junhui is perfect and goes by way too quickly._

_It makes Minghao far too greedy, and maybe Minghao lied because he does want something. He wants to hold onto these moments for far too long and steal them away._

_Because Junhui will look at him like he’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, kiss him through every strain, hold him like he’s something precious, and whisper sweet affirmations in his ear. Minghao thinks his heart and every other part of his body is on fire._

_For now, Minghao tells himself it’s okay to be greedy._

*****

Hansol’s reasons for getting Myungho to the shoot with Junhwi was layered.

The first was because he wanted Myungho to be able to watch him carry out an important photoshoot on his own, with the subject Myungho knew the most about, Moon Junhwi. He wanted to impress Myungho in the field he knew the best.

The second was to give Myungho and Junhwi another space where they could probably communicate. He thinks Junhwi will run out of reasons to come to the studio and Myungho will run out of excuses to look for him. Hansol is already tired of watching them either arguing or talking awkwardly intensely. At the same time, he’s concerned at seeing them separately pretend they’re okay with each other when there’s some unresolved lingering attachment there. 

The third was because Seungkwan had told him he and Mingyu would be there. He’d promised Seungkwan weeks ago that he’d tell him whatever was going on between Myungho and Junhwi. He figures this is a reasonable loophole; he won’t have to tell Seungkwan anything Myungho won’t want him to say if Seungkwan sees it for himself. 

He still doesn’t particularly know why it interests Seungkwan, something about Myungho being a secretive hyung he’s known for years and Junhwi being one of his favorite actors. _“Look, if Myungho-hyung really did go out with him, I just want to know how that even happened because it seems so unreal, right?”_

Hansol briefly thinks about what would have happened if Seungkwan was the one in his position instead, having a front-row view of their mess. 

But luckily, Myungho had agreed to come and it was all set. Now all Hansol has to do is make sure the shoot with Junhwi goes well, create some scenario where Myungho and Junhwi talk and it’s all done. 

On their way to the shoot this morning, Hansol told Myungho as much as he could without revealing the deal he made with Junhwi, in an attempt to make him feel better. Myungho perked up a bit, guided Hansol through his shoots and told him it was practice for working with Junhwi. 

Hansol doesn’t entirely believe Myungho’s excuse that his sunglasses were for fashion. His eyes were mostly hidden but Hansol could tell he was still troubled. 

“Hey, what was Myungho-hyung like when Moon Junhwi was here before?” Hansol asks over lunch, tossing a fry in his mouth.

Chan frowns as he puts his drink down. “Hm, almost the same,” he says, crossing his arms and leaning back in his seat. “From what Jeonghannie-hyung told me, he did his work and gave it in on time. Why?”

Hansol quickly shakes his head. “No reason, he’s just been troubled lately.”

Hansol likes eating lunch with Chan. Not that he didn’t enjoy being with Myungho, but it felt nice spending time with someone younger than him for a change. 

Chan pouts, picking up his burger. “I didn’t really see much of Myungho-hyung then, other than when he and Jun-hyung came to tell me about their relationship. But you know they were dating before so I guess Myungho-hyung’s particularly sensitive when it comes to him.” He takes a particularly large bite of his burger, eyes eager. “Hence all those complaints and the rule I had to warn you about when you started,” he says after chewing through most of his bite.

Hansol hums, biting into his own burger. 

“They were really cute together though,” Chan adds, wiping at his mouth with a napkin.

Hansol lets out a small chuckle. “So I’ve heard,” he sighs. “Whenever I see them, they’re either arguing or awkwardly dancing around something.”

Chan shrugs distractedly, eyes focused on his burger again as he holds it in front of his face with both hands. “Leftover feelings, you know? They probably don’t know what to do with themselves. Especially Jun-hyung.”

Hansol looks down at his plate. Maybe it’s just because he spent more time with Myungho that he feels inclined to object and say that Myungho is affected too. He wonders if everyone else overlooks that. 

“So you must have done well with Jun-hyung’s test, right? For him to request you?” Chan prompts, taking another large bite. 

“What test?” Hansol asks, frowning. “How did you hear about that?”

Chan’s eyes widen as he chews through his food, holding a hand up to give him time.

Hansol waits, sipping at his own drink. He doesn’t recall a test, unless Junhwi challenging him before they made their deal counted as a test. 

Chan knocks back some of his soda, pulling it away from his lips with a relieved sigh. “I got copied on the email Jeonghannie-hyung sent Seungcheol-hyung just in case. I wanted to ask Shua-hyung about it but apparently he and Jun-hyung had to go into a meeting this morning.”

Hansol purses his lips, head bobbing in understanding.

Chan looks down at his fries.“And for the test, before Myungho-hyung, Jun-hyung tested photographers before he decided he’ll keep working with them. But I guess if you didn’t do it, he must’ve figured if Myungho-hyung hired you, you should be good so no need.”

Hansol shakes his head. “What do you mean a test though? He challenged me by saying I couldn’t handle it, is that it?”

Chan’s face fills with guilt, eyes darting around. “I’m not completely sure. I think he told a weird story to see how they react? It’s been a while since he did it, you’d have to ask Myungho-hyung.”

Hansol wonders if that’s what Myungho meant when he asked if Junhwi asked him weird questions. “Is there a reason why he did it?”

“Hm?” Chan leans back in his seat, folding his arms over his chest, eyeing his burger. “Jun-hyung doesn’t really _trust_ photographers easily. He filed a few cases to me before, saying they made him uncomfortable. Then we let him go around hiring freelancers and he tested them. Myungho-hyung was the one he chose since he trusted him the most and he hadn’t switched since.”

Hansol’s brow twitches. “That’s why Myungho-hyung was his main photographer before? What about when he went to China?”

Chan sighs, sitting back upright in order to go at his burger again. “He wasn’t a model when he was in China? I thought you knew that.”

Hansol shakes his head, watching Chan take another absurdly large bite of his burger. His eyes sparkle with fascination, humming in contentment but Hansol can’t say he feels the same. 

He wonders if this is why Myungho was so upset when he learned about the request. If he thought Junhwi was saying he trusted Hansol over him.

He stares down at his own burger, halfway done but almost ignored since he’d asked Chan about Myungho. He picks it up again, thinking.

_“So I have my own theory, but why does me telling you about Myungho-hyung mean so much to you?”_

_“What, that I’d trade a booking for it? He said something really weird before he left yesterday. You were there. You could probably tell it had to do with us dating before. I was sure I knew what we were but now, I don’t know what it means.”_

Junhwi was willing to trust Hansol for Myungho. He had to have had some blind faith that Myungho is able to pick out an assistant well. And if Junhwi still had those apprehensions, it also meant he threw those out the window and trusted Hansol just for the chance at learning more about Myungho. 

He senses that Junhwi was going to use whatever he learned to fix whatever caused their drift during their lunch with Joshua. But Myungho saw the request and jumped the gun first. Hansol knows Junhwi was confused too.

Hansol bites into his burger and thinks he’s going to go crazy if he’s the only one that knows these things. He really needs the shoot to be over with.

+++

Minghao lets himself rest on the weekend. He spends most of Saturday alone, painting or taking photography walks to keep himself busy, keep his mind off of anything related to Junhui. 

He worries that if he lets himself sit still, he’ll go back into the archives in his server of photos of him and Junhui again, letting himself hold onto the relationship a little while longer when he knows he shouldn’t. Not while whatever is going on between Junhui and Hansol is going on.

He bugs Mingyu on Sunday, asks him to bring him out with Eunwoo and Jungkook and the rest of them. It’s fine this way, being with them. No one knows about his Junhui-filled history or his problems —save Mingyu who didn’t know specific details anyway— and Minghao gets to speak informally all he likes. It’s a brief few hours and although there’s no drinking involved, it’s a nice distraction. 

But that’s all it is, a distraction.

It’s not a solution. 

Jungkook tries to get Minghao to flirt with people on their trip to the mall, which Minghao does try but it doesn’t feel the same. It doesn’t feel like much of anything, really.

Even when someone responds positively to it. 

The guy introduces himself with a Chinese name. He’s slightly shorter but Minghao can tell he’s older by the way he talks and the sharp way he’s dressed. He responds to everything almost perfectly, strangely charming, saying all the right things like he’s into him. 

There’s a look in his eye that feels achingly familiar, like he’s itching to call Minghao cute, as he jots his number on a scrap tissue and hands it to him. “You can call me later. But you should definitely call me gē.” 

When Minghao looks at it, he asks his heart if there’s anything there, anything besides the word _Junhui._ But his heart remains steady, stubborn and frustrating. He’s forcing himself for the sake of going through the motions. He wonders if it’ll get easier.

On the walk home, Mingyu lets it slip that his next shoot is with Junhui. 

“I wasn’t aware of that,” Minghao says, looking at his bag of completely necessary art supply purchases.

Mingyu nods. “I thought you would have been since, you know.” His eyes move around shiftily, unsure if he can say anything more. “They had a meeting about it before the weekend? That’s what I was told. They just have to set a date but it should be soon.”

Minghao grunts. “I’m not in charge of Jun-ssi’s next shoot.”

Jungkook’s head whips around from where he’s walking ahead of them. “Are you speaking formally? None of that here!”

Mingyu covers Minghao’s mouth with his hand. “Forgive him, he’s bummed about those pickups earlier.”

Jungkook seems suspicious. “But I thought that one guy liked you?”

Mingyu grunts an odd noise. “Out of how many? They’re bad statistics, you know. Myungho’s real hurt.”

Jungkook’s eyes shift around and decides to drop it, turning his head back forward. Minghao rips Mingyu’s hand away from his face. “I am not. I don’t care about those.”

“Can you shut up while I’m covering for you? God,” Mingyu says in harsh whispers. Minghao rolls his eyes. “And anyway, I thought Junhwi always picks you.”

“He requested Hansol for his next shoot,” Minghao admits, pretending the taste in his mouth isn’t sour as he does. “I don’t know if either of them knew it was supposed to be with you when they did it though. Has Hansol bugged Kwan-ah in a while?”

Mingyu shrugs. “Not that I know of. He would’ve mentioned it. Why?”

Minghao feels his lip curl into a frown. “I thought Hansol had a crush on him before but I guess it’s gone.”

Jungkook turns his head back again. “Wait, who’s Hansol? I thought your manager’s name was Seungkwan?”

Mingyu immediately lunges at him. “Can you shut up?” he asks in exaggerated exasperation. He has Jungkook in a headlock when his phone goes off. “I fucking hate you.” He lets Jungkook go and answers it, “Hello, Seungkwan-ah.”

Jungkook scrambles back to his spot and Minghao walks in silence beside Mingyu, listening as his friend just hums dull affirmatives into his phone. Minghao gets the sense he’s being lectured about something. He eventually hangs up with a sigh. “He says hi.”

Minghao hums. “That’s nice. What’d he want?”

Mingyu pockets his phone. “He says they picked out a date for the shoot. He also says if you’re not there, he’ll find your office and physically fight you.”

Minghao snorts. “He can try.”

*****

_Minghao groans, stirring awake._

_Faint sunlight bleeds into the room and his senses start returning. He finds his arm draped over Junhui’s waist, whose back is facing him anyway, breathing still slow and even. He looks around Junhui’s room for the clock that reads that it’s about four minutes before six._

_He carefully gets up from the bed, trying not to wake Junhui, and looks around the floor for his boxers, also picking up the first shirt he finds, not sure whose it is. When he puts it on, he realizes it’s Junhui’s but Minghao doesn’t mind._

_When he steps out of Junhui’s room, he looks around and hears some rustling in the direction of the kitchen. He cautions a look over his shoulder and sees Junhui just toss over in the bed. Minghao’s just going to have to investigate himself. He goes back in the room to look for his pants, clumsily putting them on but taking the belt out and deciding to weaponize it in case he needs it._

_As he approaches the kitchen, he sees a head of dark hair rummaging through the fridge._

_“Uh, can I help you at all?” Minghao asks, unsure if this is an intruder or not. He didn’t hear any loud noises to indicate breaking in so he must’ve known the passcode somehow._

_“Ah?” the stranger gasps, pulling his head out. Minghao eyes the styrofoam box in his hand. The leftover lamb skewers. The stranger closes the fridge and looks Minghao up and down, realization dawning on his face. “Oh, you must be Myungho!” he says excitedly, face brightening._

_“I am,” Minghao replies, confused. Even more so when the stranger casually takes out a plate and puts the lamb skewers there to microwave. “I’m sorry,_ who _are you?”_

_“Oh, Wonwoo’s here!”_

_Minghao turns around and sees Junhui standing in the doorway, having put on grey sweatpants and an oversized white t-shirt, rubbing his eye. “Wonwoo?” Minghao echoes curiously._

_Junhui goes to his cabinet and pulls out two mugs. “Mm-hmm, he lives a floor down,” he says all too casually. “We didn’t want to live too far apart, Wonwoo needs me to take care of him.”_

_“Can you please stop telling people that?” the stranger, Wonwoo, grumbles as he pulls his plate from the microwave._

_“And yet you come here getting leftovers all the time,” Junhui replies, getting a kettle of water ready to boil._

_Wonwoo makes a face at him before going to sit down at Junhui’s dining table to eat._

_Minghao just watches them, dumbfounded. He loops his belt back around in his pants and decides to stay in the kitchen with Junhui since it feels safer and he’s not sure what to do about this sudden guest._

_Junhui turns to him, smiling. “Tell me when you wake up next time.”_

_Minghao blinks a few times, thinking about the already proposed ‘next time.’ “Oh. Why?”_

_Junhui’s eyes warily look at Wonwoo before coming back to Minghao. “[I wanna see you when I wake up, is all.]” He giggles and quickly slaps Minghao’s butt. His eyes look over at Wonwoo again, suddenly embarrassed._

_Minghao closes his eyes and sighs through his nose, lips coming together in a squished smile. “Sure, I’ll tell you next time.”_

_When Junhui finishes his tea preparations, he smiles at Minghao and leads him to the table with Wonwoo. Minghao cautiously chooses to sit across Wonwoo, leaving Junhui to the seat adjacent to both of them._

_Wonwoo eyes the mug of tea Junhui put in front of Minghao. “What, you didn’t get me tea too?” he asks, chuckling._

_Junhui smirks as he brings the mug to his lips. “You could’ve gotten it yourself.”_

_“Ugh, of course, boyfriend privileges,” Wonwoo retorts, rolling his eyes._

_Minghao looks at Junhui curiously, waiting for some sort of explanation._

_Junhui hurriedly puts his mug down and gestures between Wonwoo and Minghao. “Sorry. Wonwoo, you already know this is my boyfriend, Myungho. [HaoHao,] this is Wonwoo, my best friend and needy cat,” he says in a rush, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “I would’ve introduced you earlier but Wonwoo has a weird schedule so he works late a lot.”_

_Minghao blinks quickly. He vaguely remembers Junhui calling him ‘HaoHao’ as they were about to fall asleep. Minghao wonders if he agreed to it in a dazed bliss of some sort._

_Wonwoo smiles at Minghao. “It’s the life I chose. But it’s nice to finally meet you after all the selfies and the stories.” He pauses as Minghao’s eyes widen. “They’re good stories, don’t worry.”_

_“Right? Isn’t he cute?” Junhui gushes._

_Wonwoo glances from Junhui to Minghao. “Do you actually want me to answer that?”_

_Minghao chuckles. “No, it’s okay. I know hyung does that a lot.”_

_“Are you complaining?” Wonwoo asks, grinning. He points towards Junhui with one of the skewers. “But you know if I actually agree and say you’re cute, he’ll just get upset, right?”_

_Junhui shoves Wonwoo’s shoulder and then covers his face with both hands._

_Wonwoo laughs. “It’s true! You’d get upset if I said he’s_ not _cute either, so what do you want me to say?”_

_Junhui groans behind his hands._

_Wonwoo pats Junhui’s shoulder while exaggeratedly mouthing_ ‘whipped’ _at Minghao._

_Junhui quickly takes his hands off his face and sips some more at his tea. “I was just trying to show off how adorable my boyfriend is, okay? Why can’t you just let me do things, Wonwoo?”_

_“Fine, go ahead,” Wonwoo replies, shrugging as he tears off another piece of lamb with his teeth._

_“[HaoHao,] do the thing,” Junhui instructs._

_Minghao blinks at him in confusion because he has no idea what Junhui’s talking about but Junhui stares back at him with smiling enthusiastic eyes. Minghao doesn’t know what else to do so he just presses his lips together and brings his cheeks up in a squished smile towards Wonwoo._

_Junhui makes an excited noise of exclamation and claps, looking at Wonwoo for a reaction._

_Wonwoo just looks at Junhui with a dry expression, mouth still covered by the lamb skewer. They hold that stare before Wonwoo breaks and starts laughing. “Okay fine, that’s pretty cute.”_

_Junhui cheers a small noise in victory, beaming at Minghao and kissing his cheek before he drinks the rest of his tea._

_Minghao peers over to look in Junhui’s mug. “Hyung, did you finish already?”_

_He nods. “I drink fast,” he says, getting up to go wash it._

_Minghao smiles at Wonwoo. “So uh, when did Jun-hyung tell you we were dating?”_

_Wonwoo purses his lips, thinking. “Hm, probably when you started dating? He came over and was like ‘Nonu, the adorable photographer finally asked me out. He confessed and it was so cute! So anyways we’re dating now’ and started bouncing all over my apartment.” He limply moves his hands around in a lame imitation. “My neighbors complained that day.”_

_Minghao feels himself flush as he starts giggling. “That does sound like him.”_

_Wonwoo nods, smiling as he finishes the last piece of lamb. “I asked him to introduce me since I was curious about you. But as he said, I ended up working late a lot and the schedules never matched up.” He quickly looks Minghao up and down again. “Until, you know, today.”_

_Minghao starts sipping his tea to avoid responding._

_“I’m not judging,” Wonwoo quickly adds, laughing. “But Junnie always got excited whenever he talked about you, I thought it was sweet. That’s why I wanted to meet you.” He sends a warm smile toward Minghao._

_“Are you gossiping about me?” Junhui asks as he returns, coming up behind Wonwoo and putting a hand on his shoulder._

_As he watches Junhui and Wonwoo start bickering again, in between laughing and hitting each other’s shoulders— and he thinks he sees Wonwoo point out Junhui’s earring at one point— Minghao can’t help but be a bit jealous._

_He’s been wanting to introduce Junhui to Mingyu too, but he felt like Mingyu would just get upset again. He didn’t know if it was selfish to expect that their meeting would go as well as his with Wonwoo._

_Wonwoo had said that Junhui told him immediately that they were dating, yet Minghao was keeping it from Mingyu for weeks, somewhat worried about what his reaction would be. He didn’t know what Mingyu had against Junhui but he didn’t like hiding this from his best friend._

_“[HaoHao,] are you okay?” Junhui suddenly asks, snapping him out of his thoughts._

_“You look a bit sad,” Wonwoo adds, worried._

_Minghao shakes his head and sips at his tea. “No, it’s okay. I was just thinking I should get home soon, I didn’t tell my roommate where I was.”_

_Minghao thinks he sees Junhui’s face flicker into sadness before he offers, “Do you need a ride back? I can ask Shua-hyung to come get you if you want?”_

_Minghao shakes his head again. “No, it’s okay. I don’t want to trouble him. Thanks for the tea, hyung,” he says, getting up and handing him back the empty mug, quickly kissing him on the lips as he makes his way back to the bedroom to collect his things._

_By the time he’s properly dressed and comes back out, Junhui’s finished washing the dishes and Wonwoo’s still there. The two of them seem to have been chatting._

_“I’ll walk you out,” he offers, smiling at Minghao._

_Junhui watches as Minghao and Wonwoo make their way to the door area and put their shoes on. He starts waving with both hands like they’re about to go on a long journey. “Thanks for stopping by, Wonwoo.” He pulls Minghao’s chin to him and gives a quick chaste kiss. “I’ll miss you. You can keep the shirt if you want,” he mumbles, smiling._

_“I’m literally still here,” Wonwoo groans teasingly, laughing. “Come on, Myungho-yah.” He pulls him out the door, arm slipping over his shoulders._

_As they walk down the stairs, Minghao watches Wonwoo. “So you’re the same age as Jun-hyung, right?” Wonwoo nods. “Is it too forward to ask to call you hyung already?”_

_Wonwoo chuckles, shaking his head. “No, it’s fine,” he replies before he stops in front of one of the doors. “Well, this is where I get off. But it was really great meeting you, Myungho. Take good care of Junnie, okay? Hope to see you again,” he says before he disappears behind his door._

_+++_

_Minghao makes it back to his apartment eleven minutes after seven and once again finds Mingyu washing dishes, back still to him._

_“You didn’t come back last night,” Mingyu immediately says without looking. His voice is firm, even, and Minghao wonders if he had been waiting up or if he woke up early and noticed Minghao wasn’t in his room._

_Minghao sighs, hand tightening around his bag strap. There’s no use dancing around it now. “I spent the night at Jun-hyung’s. We’re dating. We have been for a while. Almost two months now actually.”_

_Mingyu’s arms stop moving. “Oh. Moon Junhwi. Right. Congratulations.” He slowly resumes washing. He’s saying the words but they feel dry, and Minghao’s heart stings._

_“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. I know I should have but I didn’t know how,” he admits hastily. “I was worried we’d just get into another argument and I didn’t want to fight with you.” He watches, waiting for Mingyu to respond._

_“I see.”_

_“I understand if you’re mad. I know you don’t like Jun-hyung but I hope you’ll respect that I do.”_

_Mingyu doesn’t say anything else. He lets out a low hum that might also be a grunt, Minghao isn’t sure._

_It’s a weird feeling, he knows it’s also his fault but he still feels hurt. There’s a part of him that wants to apologize again but he’s not sure why. He knows he would have told Mingyu about the relationship right away if Mingyu hadn’t been so hostile about Junhui earlier._

_He goes to his room to get a fresh set of clothes, showers and brushes his teeth. With a sigh, he flops on his bed. He can’t stop thinking about how Wonwoo and Mingyu’s reactions to Minghao’s relationship with Junhui seemed so different._

*****

The rest of the days until Junhui’s photoshoot blur together in Minghao’s mind, largely uneventful. He focuses on what work he’s been given and nothing else, burying himself in work and painting when he gets home. 

An email from Jeonghan arrived on Monday, filled with the production notes for Junhui’s shoot scheduled for Thursday. As he said, Mingyu’s name is attached to it. 

When he texts Mingyu about it to confirm, he just replies with _‘You really thought I was lying? You’re not even in charge of it.’_ Just as Minghao is about to reply with a colorful collection of expletives, Mingyu sends another text. _‘Seungkwan is really looking forward to seeing you there. Don’t ask me why.’_

So Minghao doesn’t. 

The shoot is indoors this time, once again trying to capitalize on some of the publicity Junhui got while in Jinhua. Through fashion, which Minghao appreciates. 

He finds it peculiar how he hasn’t seen or run into Junhui since the encounter in the hallway. He can’t tell if it’s fate sending him a message or if Junhui’s been somehow avoiding him. He’s not sure what he would prefer at this point.

Minghao focuses on setting up lights and reflector panels and decides to stay as hands-off as possible since it’s Hansol’s shoot. 

Hansol, however, seems overwhelmed despite all the time Minghao spent trying to coach him. He tells Minghao to check the equipment while he grabs something from the studio. 

“You got real comfortable bossing me around, huh?” Minghao jokes.

Hansol’s eyes widen as he realizes. “Sorry, hyung. I just left something important up there. I’ll be back,” he says quickly before running off. 

Minghao turns his attention back to the screens, setting up wires and looking over the production notes. He wonders if Junhui would ever do a promotional photoshoot again, wonders how his photoshoots went in China. Despite Minghao owning the magazine copies, he wonders about the process, how Junhui was then. 

He spots Jisoo coming in and knows Junhui can’t be far behind. Over the times he’s worked with Junhui, Minghao thinks he’s gotten used to seeing him come in all stylized with hair products, makeup and extravagant clothing. This time is different. 

This time, when Junhui walks in, his head is leaning on someone’s shoulder, hugging their arm. A familiar someone with dark hair and glasses, about as tall as Junhui; someone Minghao hasn’t seen in a long time.

Minghao walks over to them but doesn’t ask. 

But Hansol does, carrying something long and almost triangular shaped wrapped in newspaper as he jogs in. “Jun-hyung, what’s going on?” He puts his newspaper thing down on one of the tables. 

Jisoo approaches, an apologetic look in his eyes. “Sorry. He insisted.”

Minghao flicks his eyes between Junhui and his companion, waiting for an explanation. “Hi, Wonwoo-hyung,” he says, offering a small smile. 

“Hi, Myungho. Long time, no see,” Wonwoo replies with an uneasy smile and a small wave of his free hand. 

Minghao bows his head. “Yeah, it’s been a while.” Minghao liked Wonwoo, they’d always gotten along well. But Minghao had stopped talking to him after the breakup with Junhui. Mostly as a courtesy, feeling it might put Wonwoo in an awkward position. But also out of respect for Junhui. He actually imagined that if he ever encountered Wonwoo again, it would be far more awkward than this. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“He uh, Junnie said he wanted me here for support,” Wonwoo supplies nervously, rubbing the back of his neck with his other hand.

“Emotional support cat,” Junhui clarifies, pout apparent in his voice. 

Wonwoo lets out another nervous chuckle, watching Minghao’s face. “I can go if it’s a problem, It’s just.” He looks down at Junhui, still latching onto him. 

“Myungho-hyung?” Hansol asks curiously, also looking expectantly at Minghao. 

Minghao, however, has his eyes fixed on Junhui, trying to read something from them. It’s hard when Junhui is still leaning his head on Wonwoo’s shoulder and is also decidedly focused on _not_ looking at Minghao, his own eyes squinting a little and staring somewhere off to Minghao’s side. “Yes, Hansol-ah?”

“What should we do?” Hansol voices nervously, almost like he’s afraid of offending Wonwoo somehow.

“I don’t know, Hansol-ah, it’s _your_ shoot,” Minghao says, voice light, not looking away from Junhui. “It’s your call.”

“Um,” Hansol says, eyes widening. “I uh, I don’t — we never really had anything like this. And I don’t know him.”

Wonwoo blinks quickly a few times, embarrassed. “Jeon Wonwoo,” he says, as if it will help. 

Hansol bows his head respectfully. “Uh, Chwe Hansol.”

Minghao tries hard not to laugh at how awkwardly adorable the exchange is, moving one hand to cover his mouth.

“Wonwoo’s good, he’ll be really quiet!” Junhui pleads towards Hansol, tightening his grip on Wonwoo’s arm. “I just need him here for a while.”

Hansol hums out another unsure sound and turns back to Minghao. “Hyung? I would like advice, please.”

“What do you think I would do, Hansol-ah?”

Hansol’s expression turns blank. “I don’t know. You’ve been doing a lot of things lately that I didn’t think you would do, hyung.”

Minghao clicks his tongue. “I didn’t raise you to sass me like this,” he says, smiling.

Hansol’s lips come up in a tight-lipped frown, eyes widening in guilt as he holds his hands up in defense, letting the camera dangle around his neck and he backs away. 

Minghao briefly glances at Wonwoo again before focusing on Junhui. He supposes it’s a consequence of knowing Junhui so closely for so long. He knows how Junhui gets. He’d used to ask Minghao to come to his sets sometimes for one reason or another. Sometimes it was nerves, others it was just he wanted support. Although it never happened on a photography set, which just makes Minghao curious.

When he briefly looks at Jisoo for any sort of sign, the manager is focused on his phone, frowning, so Minghao decides he’s of no help right now. Then Junhui shifts a little and Minghao has an odd feeling; Junhui’s already determined that Minghao will send Wonwoo away.

“He can stay,” Minghao says, turning away to go back to the camera setup. He calls over someone from makeup, guessing that Junhui didn’t think exactly this through and ruined some concealer.

“Hyung?” Hansol repeats in curious shock, and Minghao can hear his footsteps shuffle to catch up with him.

“My decision is that Wonwoo-hyung can stay,” Minghao says plainly, stopping and whirling around to face him. “But it’s your shoot so you can refute that if you choose.”

Hansol’s eyes are slightly concerned, questioning, and Minghao notices his jaw clenching and unclenching. “Can you tell me why?”

“Why I think Wonwoo-hyung should stay?” Minghao asks to clarify and Hansol nods. “One of the rules I told you was to make sure the model was comfortable, did I not?”

Hansol looks over his shoulder to look at them again, then looks back at Minghao, eyes suddenly sad. “You did.”

Minghao frowns, taking in Hansol’s expression. “Why do you look so upset?”

Hansol pokes his tongue against the inside of his cheek, turning his head away. “I should’ve been able to figure that out on my own,” he grumbles, clearly berating himself. 

Minghao puts his hands on Hansol’s shoulders. “Hansol-ah, it’s okay. You’re learning. That’s why you wanted me here, right?”

“Did Jun-ssi do that before too?” Hansol presses. “Is that how you knew?”

Minghao sighs. “No. He never did that on a photography shoot. I just knew.” Without thinking, his fingers habitually come up to play with his hooped earring.

Hansol still looks troubled, licking his lips and nodding.

+++

Wonwoo minds his own business after getting awkward permission to stay on set, sitting off to the side and watching Junhui getting ready for his shoot while watching some videos on his phone. 

As a favor, Junhui had asked if Wonwoo could come with him during his shoot with Hansol, for emotional support. Junhui had referred to it as being his “emotional support cat” and Wonwoo doesn’t really mind. 

Truthfully, even if Junhui hadn’t asked, Wonwoo still would’ve asked Jisoo to keep an eye on him. 

Junhui had been coming over a lot more often. He mostly wanted to talk through his feelings for Myungho. The leftover feelings he wasn’t sure what to do with, trying to make sense of them when he felt he wasn’t in a place yet where he could confront Myungho.

When Wonwoo asked if Junhui would be more comfortable writing them out in a journal that Wonwoo would never try to look at, Junhui gently refused and said he wanted to voice his thoughts and appreciated Wonwoo’s presence. 

So Junhui talked. 

It was oddly visceral and unconstrained, in a way Wonwoo hadn’t seen Junhui in a long time. It made him realize just how much Junhui had locked away and never let himself acknowledge.

Somehow, Junhui hadn’t cried at all, only teared up a little and always gave Wonwoo a smile at the end, fidgeting with his earlobe. Wonwoo is the one who almost cried. Mostly because he didn’t find it fair that he was the one hearing these things instead of Myungho. Wonwoo wants to figure out how to change that.

But when Junhui asked that Wonwoo come with him for support, Wonwoo said yes. If Junhui thinks having Wonwoo’s presence around helps, he’ll do it. He’ll just have to adjust his editing schedule a little. No big deal.

He looks up and notices another pair of people come in and look around. Wonwoo guesses the taller of the two is Junhui’s co-model who seems to greet him friendly enough, clapping their hands together and giving Junhui a one-armed hug. 

They chat for a bit and briefly glance in his direction. Wonwoo sees Junhui get approached by Hansol while Junhui’s co-model looks around some more. His head goes back to Wonwoo’s direction and Wonwoo internally starts panicking when he makes his way over. 

“Hi,” is all he says as he sits down beside Wonwoo, beaming.

Wonwoo blinks. “Uh, hi?” 

And he just keeps smiling, wide and bright.

“Uh, can I help you?” Wonwoo asks curiously, not sure what Junhui’s co-model person would want with him.

He just tilts his head, still smiling. “You don’t remember me, do you?” he asks, sounding more cheerily curious rather than accusatory, and points to himself. His finger is more at his neck than his face.

“Oh, uh, you’re Junnie’s co-model. Kim Mingyu-ssi, right? I've seen some of your ads, I think? Sunglasses? They were nice, you looked really good.”

Mingyu chuckles to himself. “Not that, but thanks. We’ve actually spoken before.” 

Wonwoo’s brow raises. “We have? Oh, um, have we met before?” Wonwoo has half a mind to blame the late nights editing and energy drinks for his poor memory but decides against it. He feels like he would have remembered meeting a face like Mingyu’s if they _have_ spoken before. “Sorry, I don’t seem to recall,” he admits, a bit embarrassed.

Mingyu lets out an amused sigh, dipping his head down quickly before he recovers, bright smile back in place. “That’s alright. I actually wanted to ask you about something.”

“Uhh, sure?”

“You’re in video editing, right?” He asks, eyes sparkling with hope.

Wonwoo purses his lips and nods twice, wondering if Junhui’s just been bragging about him again or if he just had _that look._

“I know you’re probably busy and all but I was wondering…” he says, drawling on the note, “do you think you could take a look at this one project I was working on? I tried to edit it for fun and I’d like some pointers. If you have time, of course.”

“Oh, sure, I guess?” Wonwoo agrees, still confused. This whole conversation was confusing to him actually. And even more so when Mingyu hands him his phone.

“It’s just a hobby right now so you’d just be looking at it, you don’t have to edit anything. I’d just like to see where I can improve,” Mingyu says nervously. “I can uh, pay you if you want.”

Wonwoo shakes his head. “That’s kind of you but it’s okay, you don’t have to.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Wonwoo says with an amused sigh, smiling. “You said I don’t have to edit it, just watch, right? If it doesn’t touch my editing software, no charge. Besides, you’re friends with Junnie.” He nods his chin in the direction he last saw Junhui in.

Mingyu’s face brightens and Wonwoo can almost see the puppy tail wagging behind him. “Thanks! Write your email address, I’ll send it to you,” he supplies cheerily, nodding towards the phone in Wonwoo’s hands.

Wonwoo feels himself squinting, still unsure what’s going on but he’s just going with it anyways as his fingers type away at Mingyu’s screen and hands it back.

Mingyu grins when he takes it, standing up. “Thanks so much, Wonwoo-ssi, I really appreciate it!” He excitedly takes off when he finishes speaking, jogging his way back to Junhui. His foot slips on something for a second but quickly recovers. He looks back, presumably to see if Wonwoo saw, and Wonwoo just gives a polite smile and a thumbs up as Mingyu scrambles away again.

Wonwoo has no idea what just happened but he seemed friendly enough. It takes another few moments for Wonwoo to realize he never introduced himself. 


	9. Parallel lines part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Mandarin] - {English}  
> Chapter title from the song of the same name by Yesung

_Minghao didn’t really know how he expected Mingyu to take the news that he was dating Junhui._

_While he knew that Mingyu didn’t exactly have the most favorable opinion of Junhui, and Mingyu seemed to get unusually tense and irritated whenever Junhui was brought up— even if Mingyu was the one bringing him up at times before— Minghao didn’t have a guess as to how Mingyu would react when he finally said, “I’m dating Jun-hyung.”_

_He figured the most likely option would be like when Minghao first said he had a crush on Junhui. The surprised “You what?” that turned into a pseudo-argument before eventually accepting it._

_He had hoped it would go a little bit like how Wonwoo reacted, or maybe a mild exclamation of, “Oh, really? That’s nice,” like with Jisoo and they continue on with their lives. Instead, it was a weird void where Minghao feels like he’s lost his best friend and his roommate in one go._

_Minghao doesn’t bring up Junhui at all, he talks about his photography projects, his minor painting ventures, and clothing pieces that caught his eye in various magazines. He tries to exist with Mingyu the same as he always has, tries to drive in the fact that Junhui being his boyfriend doesn’t change the dynamic Minghao has with Mingyu._

_But it seems Mingyu disagrees._

_Minghao is met with a more frigid response than he would like. Mingyu still cooks the same and maybe cleans more than necessary, but something still feels off, like a gear that’s been shifted off kilter. Mingyu has also been talking far less. He mostly just responds to things with small grunts or nods and not much else, no matter what Minghao tries talking about._

_This goes on for about five days._

_When Minghao calls out that he’s leaving for work for the day, he’s only met with Mingyu’s small grunt of acknowledgement from the kitchen._

_Minghao does what he always does, focuses on the work he’s presented with and lets his mind stay there. At the end of the day, Junhui texts him to come to his practice session._ ‘Just because!’

_“Siwon-hyungnim helped book a commercial feature for me!” Junhui exclaims, holding both of Minghao’s hands while bouncing up and down on his toes._

_“That’s great!” Minghao replies, smiling and bobbing his head, watching him. He really is happy for Junhui. It was small, but it was something. Tangible proof of the work Junhui was putting in at his practice sessions._

_A group of three people come up behind Junhui, patting his shoulder. Amongst their clamorings, Minghao pieces together that they’re just his acting seniors congratulating him. And just as promised, Junhui introduces Minghao to each one, saying, “my boyfriend, Myungho.”_

_Minghao does feel a small twinge of guilt that he tries his best to ignore._

*****

As Mingyu and his manager come up to greet him, Junhui tries to tear his brain away from what just happened. He hadn’t expected that Minghao would let Wonwoo stay, but at the same time, he feels like he knew Minghao would. 

It felt like Minghao’s way of still trying to take care of him, the familiarity of it tapping away at Junhui’s heart. Junhui smiles and spots Hansol approaching him in the midst of his greetings with Mingyu. He’s a bit surprised by how forwardly friendly Mingyu is with him, giving a one-armed hug. He looks over at Wonwoo just so he doesn’t feel like the only one seeing this.

Mingyu follows Junhui’s line of vision. “You got a new manager?”

“Oh! No, that’s just a friend I brought along,” Junhui responds, head tilting. 

Mingyu nods. “Wonwoo, right?”

Junhui blinks. He’s about to ask how Mingyu knows that but the taller boy just says a small blurb of a “Be right back,” promptly excusing himself from the conversation. Junhui gives a distracted “Okay,” before focusing his attention on Hansol. 

“What’s up, kid? Why do you look so sad?” Junhui asks, peering into Hansol’s face. 

Hansol clicks his tongue, shaking his head. “I should’ve known on my own to let Wonwoo-ssi stay with you.”

“You’re beating yourself up already because your boss had to rescue you? The shoot hasn’t even started yet.”

Hansol’s brow lifts quickly in a sort of annoyed concession. 

Junhui shakes his head and tuts his tongue. He puts his hands on Hansol’s shoulders to look his square in the eye. “It’s not a big deal. Even if it was, it’s not your fault. I should’ve told you. I brought Wonwoo because I was just nervous. It’s my first real shoot with someone besides Myungho.”

Hansol gives a quick nod. “I heard about that.”

“I—” Junhui takes a deep breath, briefly looking down before refocusing on Hansol. “I didn’t know Myungho would be here.” He’s not sure he would have brought Wonwoo along if he knew that was the case.

“I asked him to be here,” Hansol says. “For a bunch of reasons, really.”

“Don’t worry about Wonwoo. I trust you, okay?” Junhui continues. “If you think you’re struggling trying to impress your boss, I’ll help you.”

“Do you only trust me because Myungho-hyung hired me?” Hansol asks, shaky.

Junhui frowns. “I won’t lie, that’s part of it,” he says, to which Hansol quickly nods in an understanding. “But also when we talked the other day, I felt like. I don’t know, I just got this feeling that I could trust you. Besides, all you really want to do is get better at your craft and impress Myungho, right? I get that.”

“You tried to impress Myungho-hyung too?” Hansol asks in slight disbelief. 

Junhui snorts out a chuckle. “Yeah. Not in the same way as you though.” 

Hansol tilts his chin at him. “What did you do?”

Junhui sighs out dramatically, fingers drifting to his earlobe, only decorated with the small hoop. “So many things, Hansollie. We can talk about it over lunch sometime.”

Hansol nods. “Okay.” His posture straightens up, looking lighter. 

Junhui chuckles a little. “Don’t worry, I gave Myungho a rough time when I first worked with him too. I’ll be nicer to you.”

Hansol’s head keeps bobbing in a sort of understanding and reassurance.

“All better now?” Junhui asks, gauging Hansol’s face. He lowers his hands from Hansol’s shoulders.

Hansol hums a small noise. “Yeah, but can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

Hansol looks away for a second. “About you and Myungho-hyung….”

“Yes?” Junhui’s mind races. There’s a slight fear that Hansol will ask about what he saw before he interrupted them in the doorway, with Junhui’s hand at Minghao’s ear, the distance Junhui hadn’t realized he closed between them.

Hansol hums a few contemplative noises for a while, like he’s weighing himself between a slew of options in his head. “Are you uh…? When you were arguing in the hallway the other day, what happened? There was some stuff in Chinese and then after….” he trails off, the corners of his lips pulling to the sides in a grimacing shape not unlike a messaging sticker Junhui’s seen before.

“Oh,” Junhui says, “he asked me to take back the request, I said I couldn’t. Don’t worry, I didn’t tell him anything.”

Hansol’s expression drops. “He asked you to take it back?”

“Yeah.” Junhui cautions a look over Hansol’s shoulder and notices Minghao off in the distance, still messing with equipment. 

“And you didn’t because of the deal?” 

“I’m a man of my word, kid,” Junhui says, puffing his voice up a bit. “Why, did something happen?” 

“Uh,” Hansol drones, eyes darting around, landing on Minghao somewhere behind him. He takes a breath, tone oddly heavy when he says, “I think I uh. I think you should talk to Myungho-hyung.”

Junhui stops. Talking to Minghao was something Junhui had wanted to do but at the same time, wanted to avoid. He knew it was a dangerous game and he’d been afraid, wanting to stay in this limbo a little longer, where he could still believe Minghao cares about him but also isn’t saying he never regretted leaving him. 

Junhui wasn’t ready to hear that again. 

He’d bugged Wonwoo a lot, asking for his opinion, asking to help him sort his feelings out. 

_“I don’t know what I’m doing, Wonwoo. He was the one who ended it and then sometimes he’ll make me hope just a little bit when I know it’s pointless. What the fuck does he mean he waited? I was supposed to be over him, why does he keep…? I don’t know what I’m thinking, it doesn’t make sense.”_

_“They’re feelings, Jun-ah, they’re not supposed to make sense. They’re just there.”_

His fingers play with his earring again, a small simple hoop that was a poor replacement for the earring Minghao gave him. The one from Minghao was put back in its box, sitting in a drawer in Junhui’s night table, unopened since his return to Seoul. 

Junhui glances over at Wonwoo, who seems to be typing something onto a phone and handing it to a cheerful Mingyu. He focuses back on Hansol and takes a deep breath. “I’ll talk to your boss, Hansollie, don’t worry. After the shoot.” He wonders if the timing will be better then, if maybe there would be a chance. 

Hansol lets out a relieved sigh, nodding. “Thanks, hyung.”

Junhui wants to make a joke about how Hansol shouldn’t interrupt this time but he supposes it’s a given. “You were worrying a lot for him, huh?” he asks instead, grinning. “He really picked a good assistant.”

Hansol tosses a thumb over his shoulder, walking backward. “I should get back to him soon, help finish setting up and all. He already thinks I’m having too much fun bossing him around.” 

“But aren’t you, though?” Junhui’s grin grows bigger.

Hansol smirks. “A little bit.” He scurries off, just in time for Mingyu to jog back, foot stumbling on something. 

*****

_Minghao still hasn’t really spoken to Mingyu._

_For about a week, Mingyu had gone out of his way to avoid him. He was getting up earlier, leaving before Minghao even stepped out of his room, and if he wasn’t coming back late, Mingyu would beeline straight to his room while Minghao was eating, ignoring Minghao’s calls at him._

_Obviously, Minghao didn’t like it._

_He told Junhui that he wanted to cancel their date for that week because he didn’t want Mingyu to feel like Minghao was ignoring him or taking all his time away from him. Junhui understood, wished him good luck, and said he’ll be around if Minghao needs anything._

_However, after another three days, the silence, grunts of responses, and the tension was getting too much for Minghao. He can only take talking to a wall for so long._

_He ends up going over to Junhui’s apartment to get away for a bit. He had left a note on the dining table that Mingyu can text him whenever he’s ready to talk._

_“Maybe he’s stressed about something at work and he can’t talk about it?” Junhui offers, holding up a small dumpling between his chopsticks in front of Minghao, other hand cupped under. It’s made easier by them sitting on the same side of Junhui’s dining table._

_Minghao hums, pulling his thumb away from his mouth to accept Junhui’s offer of food. He immediately looks down as he chews through it, steam filling his mouth. “Maybe. But he usually mentions that kind of stuff.” Minghao nods towards the plate of dumplings. “Also, those are still really hot,” he says with a small whine._

_Junhui shrinks a little, embarrassed. “Oh, are they? Sorry.” He turns back to the plates of food in front of him, poking around with his chopsticks before picking up a dumpling for himself, blowing on it and tossing it in his mouth. He quickly recoils, holding his hand over his mouth, other hand slapping at his knee._

_Minghao chuckles. “Told you.”_

_Junhui puffs out a breath after swallowing it down. “I thought more time had passed and it’d be fine,” he sighs, poking around again. “But he clearly wants space so I wouldn’t push him,” he says, redirecting the conversation back. “Pushing might just make it worse. He’ll come to you when he’s ready.”_

_Minghao frowns. “I just wish he would talk to me.”_

_Junhui’s head nods in understanding, shoving more food in his mouth._

_Minghao drums his fingers on the table, sitting upright. “If Wonwoo-hyung told you he was dating someone all of a sudden and that it’s been going on for a few months, how would you feel?”_

_Junhui lets out a contemplative noise, looking towards the ceiling. He shrugs. “I’d be happy, I guess?” He shifts a little in his seat._

_“You would?”_

_“It’s not really my relationship to say anything about at that point. I’d probably just guess that Wonwoo wanted to make sure he was serious about the person first before mentioning it.”_

_Minghao blinks. “But you told Wonwoo-hyung about us right away.” He realizes he’s diverted from the original question but his curiosity has been piqued._

_Junhui coughs, facing the table again. He quickly shoves another dumpling in his mouth, once again flinching when the steam gets to be too much._

_Minghao slurps at his congee, watching with an amused smile he can’t seem to get rid of. “Hyung, I’m waiting.”_

_Junhui takes a few more seconds to himself, puffing out weak coughs in what seems like an attempt to get more time. Finally he clears his throat but his focus is still on his plate. “I already knew that I liked you before you asked me out.”_

_“You told me to ask you out.”_

_Junhui clicks his tongue. “You didn’t have to actually_ do _it. That was your choice,” he says firmly, despite the pout on his lips. “I just made a suggestion. With a guaranteed answer if you listened.”_

_Minghao chuckles at Junhui’s brand of logic. “So when did you know you liked me?”_

_Junhui blinks quickly, slurping at his own congee. “When I told you I exaggerated Hyejin-noona’s story,” he replies, still not looking away from his food. “You got all flustered and your ears turned red and you let me move your hair away.”_

_Minghao’s heart does a funny thing, thumping against his chest. It’s not unpleasant. “That’s pretty early. And from that, you were already telling Wonwoo-hyung about me?”_

_“Ah, fine, make fun of me.” Junhui’s arms come to protectively shield the sides of his head. “But there was a_ connection _there, [HaoHao], I swear!”_

_"A connection?” Minghao challenges, skeptical._

_“Yes,” Junhui insists, lowering his arms. “I knew we were meant to at least talk and know each other, okay? It’s like fate or destiny or something.”_

_Minghao starts giggling. “You’re so cute.”_

_Junhui sputters out a few confused noises, head moving around and doing double takes before he faces Minghao again. “So I’m suddenly cute?”_

_Minghao brushes some food away from the corner of Junhui’s mouth with his thumb. “No, you were for a while. I just didn’t say anything before.”_

_Junhui scoffs. “Depriving me of compliments? I would never do such a thing to you, [HaoHao.]”_

_“You probably get compliments all the time, you don’t need mine,” Minghao says, rolling his eyes despite his smile._

_“You’re right, I get Wonwoo to tell me some randomly,” Junhui replies immediately. “But yours matter more to me.”_

_Minghao’s eyes blink a few times again, lips tightening in his mouth and he starts nodding again. “Oh. Right. Cool.”_

_A strange chortling noise comes out of Junhui’s throat. “Did I make your heart skip a beat or something?”_

_Minghao huffs through his nose. “N-no, of course not.”_

_“Oh,” Junhui says, slightly disappointed. Then he grins. “I should probably work harder then.”_

_They work through the rest of the food with relative ease and Junhui is standing up to bring the plates to the sink when Minghao suddenly says, “I wanted to introduce you to him, you know. My roommate.”_

_Junhui pauses, looking over his shoulder. “Ah.” And Minghao doesn’t know what to do with that. “It’s okay, really! No pressure. Whatever you’re comfortable with.” He continues walking to the kitchen._

_Minghao picks up some dishes and cautiously follows, putting the dishes on the side as Junhui starts washing. He quietly brings over the rest of the dishes until the table is cleared. Then he wraps his arms around Junhui’s waist from behind, leaning his chin on his shoulder._

_“Careful,” Junhui says teasingly, “I’ll think you’re actually into me or something.”_

_“Hm, maybe I am,” Minghao replies with a light shrug._

_Junhui scrubs two more bowls before he speaks up again, “I’m really not worried about the introducing thing, you know. In case you’re thinking I secretly am and just not telling you.”_

_“You know what I’m thinking?”_

_“I can practically hear it. And there’s this look you have.”_

_Minghao frowns. “You can’t even see my face right now. And you can read my looks already?”_

_Junhui hums. “It’s in your eyes,” he says, rinsing off a plate. “You’re worried about your roommate but you think you can’t bring it up. You also think I’m secretly bothered by you not introducing me to anyone, which I’m not, by the way.”_

_Minghao presses closer to Junhui’s back, leaning his cheek against him. “I didn’t think it was that obvious.”_

_“It might not be but I spend a lot of time looking at your face,” Junhui replies, with a gentle hint of teasing. “It’s a nice face.”_

_Minghao puffs a small scoff at the back of his throat._

_“You can tell me some of your worries on your own sometimes, you know. Especially if it’s about me. I really don’t mind. Introduce me to whoever you want. Or don’t, it’s your relationship too.” His voice is light, reassuring, and Minghao really believes him._

_The thing is that Minghao does want to. He’s just worried about Mingyu’s reaction._

_“I can’t exactly help with your roommate since I don’t really know him,” Junhui continues, “but I’ll listen if you want.”_

_Minghao takes a deep breath. “When I went home after I met Wonwoo-hyung, I told Mingyu I was dating you,” he admits slowly. “I was hiding it from him before since he didn’t exactly have the best opinion of you. After that is when he started avoiding me.”_

_Minghao feels Junhui’s moving to put the last dish in the drying rack and then Junhui stills._

_“[Junhui?]”_

_“I'm thinking,” Junhui replies. “Carry on.”_

_Minghao snorts. “That's it.”_

_Junhui lets out a small noise, hands moving to cover Minghao's around his waist. "I see." He pauses again, slightly tense. “You think it’s because you told him we’re dating?”_

_Minghao hums. “It seemed like a cause-and-effect thing.”_

_“Do you have any doubts about dating me or it's just him?”_

_Minghao holds a bit tighter. “I don’t.”_

_“Ah. I thought I must have done something.”_

_Minghao lifts his head from Junhui’s back. “Maybe he has a misconception about you. He said he used to hear rumors. That you mess with people and flirt with them and drop them and stuff.”_

_“Oh,” Junhui says, voice dipping. “Hyejin-noona’s story.”_

_“You think that’s it?”_

_Junhui shrugs. “I must’ve said so many variations of ‘I heard the last model that was here ran out crying’ to so many people that it came off as me messing with them.”_

_Minghao feels himself gulp. “What about flirting with people and getting them to ask you out? And dropping them when you’re bored?”_

_“That’s what he said?” Junhui chuckles, shaking his head as his chin lowers. “You’re gonna make me say something embarrassing, aren’t you?”_

_“What do you mean?”_

_“You're the only one I told to ask me out,” Junhui says, taking his hands off Minghao’s to cover his face. “You can ask Shua-hyung, I didn’t really pay attention to anything like that before.”_

_“I was the only one?”_

_“Well, I thought you were cute and interesting and I wanted to spend more time with you.” Junhui slowly takes his hands off his face._

_Minghao pouts. “What if I hadn't asked you out?”_

_“Then I would have held my crush in silence and tried to be friends with you at least.”_

_“Really? You wouldn't have asked_ me _out?”_

_“Well I already told you I was flirting with you and I was interested in you that way. So if you hadn't responded well to that, I wouldn't have pushed you,” Junhui says, covering Minghao’s hands with his own again. “I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable by pursuing you further. But I still liked being around you.”_

_Minghao doesn’t know what his heart is doing this time. “Oh.”_

_Junhui laughs. “You know I can feel your heartbeat against my back, right?”_

_Minghao immediately lets go, backing away and slapping Junhui’s shoulder in embarrassment._

_Junhui slightly turns away from it, largely unaffected. “Is that what your roommate's worried about? That I'll flirt with other people while dating you?”_

_Minghao frowns. “Maybe. He won't talk to me so I can't be sure.”_

_Junhui bites at his thumb. “I wonder how I got that reputation,” he says, walking back to the dining room. “I hadn't flirted with anyone else. Or maybe I just talked to them and they_ thought _I was flirting?”_

_Minghao follows, surprised when Junhui spins back around suddenly._

_“Are_ you _worried about that?”_

_“The flirting thing?” Minghao asks. Junhui nods quickly. “No, not since Yongsun-noona.” He puts his arms over Junhui’s shoulders, ignoring the older’s grin and slight giggles. “Besides, you gave that whole speech earlier about how into me you were.”_

_Junhui’s hands move to Minghao’s waist as he leans his head close. “I can also show you if you have time?” Then Minghao feels Junhui’s lips on his own and mumbles an agreement. Minghao has time._

_In the midst of lifting Minghao onto the dining table, Junhui offers to clear things up with Mingyu if he ever gets the chance._

_With the way things were going, Minghao just worries that Junhui won’t ever get that chance._

*****

Junhui watches Mingyu stumble back towards him. He looks over his shoulder at Wonwoo, receiving a thumbs up in return.

“You okay?” Junhui asks, trying not to smile too much as Mingyu stops in front of him.

“Yeah,” Mingyu replies, lifting his right foot to check the bottom of his shoe. “I slipped on something just now,” he says with a pout, frowning at his shoe like it betrayed him.

Junhui steps closer, grabbing one of Mingyu’s arms to help him keep balance. Trying to keep his voice light, he asks, “You know Wonwoo?” 

“I spoke to him once before,” Mingyu replies distractedly, putting his foot down when it seems he can’t find the perpetrator of his earlier stumble. “Thanks.” He stands back upright.

Junhui lets go. “Sure. And uh, I didn’t know you knew each other.”

Mingyu shakes his head. “It was only that one time and he doesn’t really remember. It’s okay, though. He’s the video editor you mentioned last time, right?”

Junhui nods, beaming. “Yep! He’s really good! He spends a lot of time on those.” He pauses, realizing he was about to go on another bragging spree. “Was he able to take on your job this time?”

When Junhui last brought up Mingyu’s editing job to Wonwoo, he hadn’t used his name. At the time, he was more focused on the fact that he was Minghao’s roommate who presumably had a problem with him from years ago. He wonders if Wonwoo knows he’s the same guy Junhui mentioned the first time. He’d had to relay Wonwoo’s message to Jisoo, who messaged Mingyu’s manager, who would presumably then tell Mingyu. He doesn’t know if this is what Mingyu means by speaking to Wonwoo once before. It seemed like too long of a chain. 

“Oh, I didn’t really have a job I wanted him to do,” Mingyu says, smiling. “I was editing something on my own and I wanted his opinion. Or tips.”

“Oh, wow,” Junhui finds himself saying in a stunned exhale. “I didn’t know you edited.” He covers his mouth, once again realizing he doesn’t really know anything about Mingyu other than what Minghao told him. 

Mingyu still doesn’t act in the way that Minghao had described though, because he brightens for a second and then shrinks, nervously rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s more of a hobby right now.”

Junhui isn’t sure why he keeps expecting the reaction of a man that hates him. Maybe he’s just paranoid. “That’s really cool.” He watches nervously as Mingyu grins. “You uh, you’re okay working with me, right?”

“{Of course, why not?}” Mingyu immediately answers, confusing Junhui with the sudden English. He smiles, hands on his hips. “If I seem weird, I’m mostly just intimidated. Am I that bad at hiding it?”

“Intimidated?” That’s not the answer Junhui was expecting.

Mingyu purses his lips. “Maybe ‘intimidated’ isn’t the right word. I’m not sure what is but my manager had me watch the drama and some of the other stuff you were in. And now you’re like, in front of me, and it’s a bit.” He makes a face, like he’s bracing himself for something. “I’m pretty sure my manager is expecting me to leave here as your best friend.”

“Oh!” Junhui exclaims. “Seungkw—?”

Mingyu’s eyes widen and he quickly covers Junhui’s mouth with his hand, head looking around cautiously. When he thinks it’s safe, Mingyu keeps his eyes urgently wide at Junhui.

As Mingyu does that, Junhui remembers what Mingyu said when handing him Seungkwan's card. _‘So as much as possible, try not to say his name too much.’_ He nods in understanding. Mingyu removes his hand, relieved. 

“Right, him, okay.” Junhui bows his head a little. “That’s very flattering, thank you.” He’s not sure why but he keeps waiting for Mingyu to mention Minghao at some point. He briefly wonders if it’s because he just assumes other people are constantly thinking about Minghao like he is. 

Junhui needs to snap out of it. 

But he supposes if Mingyu wants to know him as “the actor from my manager’s beloved period drama” instead of “my roommate best friend’s ex,” Junhui can try to roll with that. As best he can.

“You were really good though,” Mingyu adds, beaming. “I didn’t know you were acting before.”

“Oh, thanks.” Junhui gives a weak smile, the ‘before’ pulsing in his ears. Before, like when they both were connected to Minghao? “Just out of curiosity, why can’t I say your manager’s name?”

Mingyu grimaces and his posture slackens. He lets out a sigh. “I don’t know how, but he can like, _sense it_ and it summons him,” he says, head looking around in an odd paranoia. 

“Oh, like Cho Jo!” Junhui exclaims. 

Mingyu’s head quirks, a small puff coming out of his nose. “Is that from an old saying?”

Junhui nods, beaming. “You’ve heard it?” 

“Sort of,” Mingyu replies, shrugging. “It doesn’t translate well, right?”

“His name is kind of weird, yeah,” Junhui admits. His fingers drift to his earlobe again, fidgeting with the small hoop there. 

Mingyu chuckles. “Ah. Well, I love my manager and all but sometimes I don’t need him to _appear,_ you know?”

Once again, Junhui does not actually know and they fall into an odd silence, with Junhui thinking about what odd topics he wants to bring up just to keep conversation. They range from Wonwoo to Seungkwan and inevitably, back to Minghao. 

He wants to ask a lot of things; why Mingyu fought with Minghao back then, what problem Mingyu had with him, why Mingyu’s so friendly with him now. He always wondered if Mingyu’s fight with Minghao was really his fault.

“Hyungs!” Hansol calls, waving them over. He has a tablet in his hand and gestures for them to look at it. “So we’re doing your duo shots first, break, Mingyu-hyung’s solos, Jun-hyung’s solos, done. Is that okay?”

They both quickly nod and get ushered to the photography area.

Throughout his shots with Mingyu, Junhui notes that he’s still friendly and warm and easy to work with. He tells awkward jokes and Junhui has no idea how to feel. His mind is still lost, scrambled; he can’t comprehend this Mingyu from the one Minghao told him about. He’s not sure if it’s worth bringing up. 

As Mingyu leans an elbow on his shoulder for a pose, Junhui briefly flickers his gaze over to Minghao, monitoring a few feet behind Hansol. Minghao has one arm crossed over himself, his teeth mildly tapping at the thumb of his other hand. It’s a look Junhui’s seen before; Minghao’s stressed about something, staring at the back of Hansol’s head. 

Minghao meets his gaze and Junhui holds it, trying to find something. A mixed look of guilt and sadness crosses Minghao’s face as he looks away so Junhui focuses his attention back to Hansol’s camera. He figures Hansol was telling the truth; he needs to talk to Minghao. 

Then Junhui catches a look of something in Mingyu’s eye, that he’s not just looking at him like he’s this actor in a show he’s seen before. 

It feels more personal. It feels more like Mingyu’s looking at an old friend he’s somehow apologetic towards. Junhui doesn’t know if this is a good or bad omen. 

*****

_Another week goes by with no messages from Mingyu._

_Minghao spends about four days of it —not all in a row—waking up in Junhui’s bed, sometimes naked, sometimes fully clothed with Junhui’s arms around his waist behind him._

_Minghao only runs into Wonwoo two more times. Wonwoo seems to get the hint that Minghao will be a frequent morning guest and leaves them to their business, but not without a few teasing remarks._

_During this week, Minghao brings Junhui down to the dance studio to introduce him to Soonyoung. It’s a choice he quickly regrets when they recognize they both have the same Gemini energy and cause a ruckus with each other. It’s a lot of excitement Minghao wasn’t expecting to handle but he’s just happy they get along._

_Minghao also introduces Junhui to his mother via video chat. During that call, Junhui is the image of a perfectly polite, well-behaved shy boy who certainly did not defile her only son. But Minghao’s mother is just happy she’s able to communicate with someone he’s dating._

“[I don’t care who it is, Minghao, as long as they treat you well and I can talk to them,]” _she had said._

_When Minghao does go home, there’s still a tense energy around Mingyu. Despite what Junhui says, Minghao can’t help but worry. He wonders how much space he can give Mingyu at this rate._

_+++_

_Another week goes by. Minghao is able to make it to Junhui’s commercial shoot for support, noting how tightly Junhui seems to hold his hand during the break. He doesn’t say anything, just keeps holding Minghao’s hand, taking a deep breath until he’s called back._

_It takes his mind off Mingyu for a bit and it’s not until Seungkwan sends him a text after work that Minghao figures he can’t keep waiting for him._

‘Myungho-hyung! Do you know what's going on with Mingyu-hyung? I just dropped him off but something’s been off with him lately. He’s been like, irritable or something and I’m not sure why. He’s been drinking a lot with Eunwoo-hyung I think. But I had to tell him about what you asked me before, I’m sorry!!’ _with a crying sticker._

_So Minghao goes home and finds Mingyu in the kitchen, putting on an apron and looking like he’s getting ready to start cooking something. From this angle, Minghao can only see his profile but there are vegetables scattered on the counter around a cutting board and Mingyu’s just picked out a knife from the holder._

_“Mingyu. Before you start doing anything, I want to talk to you,” Minghao says, slinging off his bag and putting it on a chair._

_Mingyu doesn’t say anything, just sets his knife aside and waits._

_“What’s going on with you?” Minghao asks, trying to be gentle. “You haven’t spoken to me in almost three weeks, you barely look at me and I don’t know what to do. I thought if I gave you space, you’d come around, but you haven’t. I don’t want us to be like this.”_

_“It’s nothing.”_

_“Bullshit. Don’t give me that,” Minghao retorts quickly. “If you’re stressed, say you’re stressed. If you’re mad at me, say you’re mad at me. Don’t do whatever this is and don’t take it out on Kwannie.”_

_Mingyu puts his hands on the counter, leaning his weight forward, brow furrowing. His jaw moves but no words come out._

_Minghao takes a deep breath, offering the only thing he can think of. “If this is about me dating Jun—”_

_“I just—” Mingyu sighs, looking around. “Why did you tell Kwannie to never book you for my shoots?”_

_Minghao frowns. “That’s what you’re mad about? Mingyu, I signed a contract, I’m not freelance any—”_

_“No, I mean even before that,” Mingyu cuts in, voice agitated. “_ Before _you signed with Moon Junhwi’s company. When you_ were _still freelance. You took Junhwi’s jobs but you told Seungkwannie you wouldn’t do any of my shoots?”_

_Minghao lets out a long breath. “Yeah, I did,” he says slowly._

_“Why?”_

_“Because we’re roommates,” Minghao answers quickly. “I would have felt uncomfortable taking money from you. You already do so much around here, I wouldn’t be able to take money from you. It wouldn’t sit right with me. If I was going to contribute back, it was going to be in my own way.”_

_Mingyu’s posture and expression deflates. “That’s all?”_

_Minghao nods. “Yeah, that was my main reason. It wasn’t anything against you, it’s just. I didn’t want to feel indebted to you like that.”_

_“Then how come you wouldn’t use me for your portfolio early on either? You_ paid _Moon Junhwi.”_

 _Minghao shakes his head, wondering why Mingyu is still fixated on bringing Junhui back into this. “I would’ve felt bad paying_ you. _And I guess I didn’t feel right mixing work with our living situation. So I asked and paid another model.” He pauses before gently adding, “It’s not a big deal.”_

_Mingyu mumbles something Minghao doesn’t quite catch, looking away. He thinks he heard the word ‘met’ though._

_“Mingyu, I didn’t catch that,” Minghao says, an odd feeling gnawing at his chest._

_“I said I would have done it for free if you asked.”_

_“Why would you do that?”_

_“Because I have f—” Mingyu lets out a deep breath, turning his head away like he’s offended. Minghao feels a sudden pulse of guilt squeeze his chest and Mingyu runs a hand through his hair, pushing it back. “Because we’re roommates?” he asks as a sort of odd echo to Minghao’s reason. “Friends?_ I don’t know, _it would have just been like a favor or something.” His voice is getting strained, stressed, and Minghao feels like his head is going to explode._

_“I don’t really like favors. I don’t like feeling like I owe someone like that.”_

_“And yet you’re sleeping with Moon Junhwi,” Mingyu spits bitterly._

_Minghao looks over at him, squinting. “And?” he prompts a bit coldly, noticing how Mingyu’s face quickly twitches. “So what if I am? What does that have to do with anything?”_

_“Was that before or after you got into his company?”_

_“What?” Something in Minghao snaps. “What the fuck are you saying, Mingyu? Because it’s sounding like you’re implying that the reason I got my job is because I’m sleeping with Jun-hyung. You think he’s only with me_ as a favor? _For sleeping with him or what?”_

_Mingyu freezes, realizing what he’s said. “I — shit, no, wait — Myungho, that’s not what I meant,” he sighs, wiping his hand down his face in frustration._

_“Then what_ did _you mean?”_

_Mingyu gulps and doesn’t say anything, mouth moving helplessly._

_“Yeah, okay.” Minghao can’t stay here, he decides as he heads towards the door. “I don’t know what’s going on with you but I need to get out of here before one of us says more things we’ll both regret. Maybe you need more time,” he says, putting his shoes on. “I know you don’t like Jun-hyung but you don’t have to invalidate my relationship with him and my ability to get things through my own skills.”_

_Mingyu remains silent and Minghao thinks he prefers it like that. He doesn’t think he can stomach anything else Mingyu would have to say._

_“By the way,” Minghao adds, stepping outside, “I got the job_ before _Jun-hyung and I were even involved. The company was actually hesitant about me joining_ because _of that.”_

_“Myungho, I’m sor—”_

_Minghao quickly shuts the door behind him._


	10. Parallel lines part 2

*****

Hansol thinks the duo shoot with Mingyu and Junhwi seems easy enough. He’s not sure why he was slightly nervous at how they would work together but they seem fine. They move about with each other in a casual enough way that Hansol wouldn’t have guessed their last interaction wasn’t as awkwardly clunky as he remembered.

As promised, during the shoot, Junhwi had beckoned him over a few times and whispered a few hints, such as, “Try lower angles too, Myungho likes kind of low, wide angles,” and Hansol went with each one. Judging by the grins on his face, Hansol knew that Mingyu could tell something was up. 

For the most part, Myungho does as he promised and stays out of it, content to watch Hansol work on his own. He doesn’t say much, just monitors Hansol's activities. It’s reassuring for Hansol to know that Myungho’s there in case he needs him.

During the break while reviewing the photos taken so far, Hansol isn’t sure whose reaction he’s more nervous about. 

Junhwi gives a light sigh, coming up beside Hansol and puts an arm around him to pat his shoulder. “You’re doing fine, kid,” he says. “But mix in some shots you wanna try, even if Myungho doesn’t do them.”

Hansol blinks. “Really?”

Junhwi shrugs. “Myungho would get bored with the same style over and over, right? You can experiment when it’s my solos. I give you full permission.”

Hansol breathes out a sigh of relief. “Thanks, hyung.” He pauses, frowning. 

“What’s up?”

“You’re still going to talk to Myungho-hyung, right?”

Junhwi’s expression falters a bit before he nods. “Yeah. After the shoot is done. Your boss had this thing about no talking during shoots and I guess I’m just used to it.” He claps his shoulder a few more times. “I gotta go check on something with Shua-hyung. But don’t worry, you’re doing fine,” he says before he hops away.

Hansol walks over to where Myungho is, about to ask for his feedback but pauses when he hears Myungho utter, “Care to explain?” 

Mingyu tilts his head. “What do you want me to explain?” 

“You seem really friendly with Junhwi all of a sudden,” Myungho replies, voice heavy with irritation.

“Is that a problem?” 

“I— I don’t know, I’m just _confused._ You fucking hated him when I was going out with him and now you’re chatting him up like you’re buddies?”

“I’m just making friendly conversation, Myungho. I don’t know what you’re worked up about,” Mingyu replies, unbothered.

Hansol doesn’t know how he keeps getting stuck in these situations, into these entanglements he really shouldn’t be witnessing. 

“Look,” Mingyu’s voice continues, “maybe it is like you said. Even if I didn’t meet him back then, I was an ass towards him. I’m making up for it now.”

Myungho snorts a derisive noise. “Fine. Do what you want.”

Mingyu clicks his tongue. “Why does it bother you so much?”

Myungho’s expression flashes into something Hansol doesn’t recognize. “All I wanted was for you to get along with him when we were together since it was so frustrating for me. So yeah, I’m a little annoyed that you’re only nice to him _after_ we've broken up.”

Mingyu sighs. “We’re not doing this again.”

“We never did it a first time. You never told me why you hated him.”

“That’s because you never listened to me. I kept telling you I didn’t hate him.”

“So you were just hostile towards him for no reason?” 

Mingyu pauses. “Are you sure I’m the one you should be talking to right now?”

“What.”

Mingyu lets out another sigh through his nose. “You’re clearly upset about something to do with Junhwi and instead of talking to him, you’re here taking it out on me.”

Myungho’s posture straightens. He juts his chin out but says nothing, as if trying to somehow intimidate Mingyu with a height he doesn’t quite have on him. There’s an odd stretch of silence, or at least that’s what Hansol’s hoping because all he can hear is his heartbeat thumping rapidly in his ears. He silently begs one of them to keep talking.

“I think Hansol needs my help with something,” Myungho states dryly and Hansol regrets his wish. He fidgets with the camera around his neck, pretending that’s where his focus was the entire time in case they look in his direction. 

To Hansol’s luck, it seems Mingyu stops Myungho from leaving. “You never did what I told you, did you? You didn’t explain yourself and apologize for whatever the fuck you were hiding about before?”

“I fucked up, okay? I fucked up and messed up my timing. It doesn’t matter now. He’s moved on. I shouldn’t try to drag him back.”

There’s a strain in Myungho’s voice that pangs at Hansol. He wants to object because he’s pretty sure Junhwi’s attention has been on Myungho since he came back. But that would mean exposing that he’s been listening.

Mingyu sighs. “And what about you? Are you actually going to move on or keep holding onto this?”

There’s another long pause that wraps around Hansol’s heart before Myungho finally says, “I don’t know.”

Hansol takes a deep breath, slowly stepping away. He’s not risking another incident like at the restaurant. He really thinks he’s going to go crazy at this rate. He starts looking around, trying to find the person he wants to see. 

“Hansol!”

He turns to find Seungkwan cheerfully jogging up with a tray of coffee drinks. He passes one to Mingyu, one to Myungho, an iced coffee for himself and the last one for Hansol. 

The two chime out a, “Thanks, Kwan-ah,” and Hansol pretends they had no idea he heard their conversation.

“When we got coffee together last time, you had just a regular americano, so I hope that’s okay?” Seungkwan says, smiling as he tucks the tray away under his arm. 

Hansol nods, putting an arm around Seungkwan’s shoulders to lead him away from his boss. “Yeah. I— thank you. I wasn’t expecting this.” 

Seungkwan waves his hand up and down in dismissal. “It’s nothing. Wait, where are we going? What’s wrong?”

Hansol shakes his head. “Myungho-hyung and Mingyu-hyung were arguing.” He stops them a good distance away, checking back.

“Really, again? About what?”

Hansol’s eyes move in a few stunned blinks. “Uh.” He brings the coffee cup to his lips and sips away at it. It doesn’t deter Seungkwan this time as he just watches, eyes narrowing. “I have no idea,” he says.

Seungkwan appears dully unconvinced for a second before he seems to drop it. “They’ll be fine. I wasn’t expecting you to be in charge of the shoot though. You should have told me!” he says, sipping at his straw.

“ _I_ should have told you? You should have told me you were planning to arrange Mingyu-hyung’s shoot being with Jun-hyung _before_ it happened!” Hansol objects. “I only told you to tell me _if_ it happened.”

Seungkwan stands beside Hansol, unbothered, looking around. “You’re close enough to call him Jun-hyung? Lucky,” he muses quietly. “And I knew something was up. I felt like nothing was going to happen if I didn’t do this. I pulled out so many favor cards for you. At least I told you eventually, right?”

Hansol watches Seungkwan’s head stop moving in a certain direction. He follows his line of sight to Junhwi, leaning a chin on Wonwoo’s shoulder while Joshua seems to be reading him something off his phone. “Was it when I texted you that day?” he prompts. “That I was doing the day’s shoots by myself?”

Seungkwan nods, sipping at his straw again. “Yeah. And I know how Myungho-hyung is. He’s secretive and acts like things don’t bother him but he’s actually deeply affected. He was always like that. So when you said he took the day off, I figured it had to do with you keeping his secrets and downing a whole glass of halabong juice while talking about Moon Junhwi.”

“Sorry,” Hansol says automatically. He is a little curious if Seungkwan noticed Myungho post-breakup with Junhwi, if Seungkwan somehow knew Myungho went through one while being unaware that it _was_ Junhwi.

“It’s okay,” Seungkwan replies, eyes still staring off in Junhwi’s direction. He turns to Hansol. “At least now, you won’t have to keep them by yourself, right?”

Hansol tips his coffee cup to his lips to avoid responding. His heart is beating too quickly against his chest. “So did you do this for Myungho-hyung or to see Moon Junhwi?”

“Hm,” Seungkwan hums for a prolonged few seconds, turning away again, “a little of both. But mostly because you sending that selfie felt like some kind of signal.”

“A signal?”

Seungkwan nods. “Like a secret message you wanted me to notice.” Hansol is a bit embarrassed that Seungkwan is right. “I just can’t believe you would use my admiration of Moon Junhwi against me,” he jokes, voice light.

Hansol looks between Seungkwan and Junwhi. “You know, he would probably be okay with you talking to him.”

Seungkwan whips his head to him. “Really?” he asks, stars lighting up his eyes.

Hansol nods. “Yeah, probably after the shoot is done and all. I can introduce you.”

Seungkwan brightens, free hand coming to cup his own cheek in embarrassment. As he’s watching Seungkwan giddily fuss over himself, Hansol figures that using his last request from Junhwi on Seungkwan wasn't such a bad idea after all. He thinks it’ll be worth it if it makes Seungkwan this happy, if he can keep hold of the pleasant fluttering of his heartbeat against his ribs.

*****

_Junhui’s door swings open and he’s standing there with his arms spread open._

_“[HaoHao!]” he exclaims before pausing. His eyes scan over Minghao’s face and his expression drops. Junhui extends a hand towards him and Minghao takes it, curious. The next thing Minghao knows, Junhui pulls him close and arms wrap around his back._

_Minghao’s chin is on Junhui’s shoulder as a hand cradles the back of his head. “Hyung?”_

_Junhui hums. "You just looked like you needed it," he says softly._

_Neither speak for a while and Minghao realizes that Junhui isn’t going to try to ask why he just showed up at his apartment looking like a stray cat. He’ll wait for Minghao to speak on his own. That’s how Junhui was._

_Minghao waits for his breathing to even out, for his heart to return to normal and for his body to feel like it has control over its own gravity again. It occurs to Minghao how they're just hugging in the middle of Junhui’s apartment doorway, the door pressing against Junhui’s shoulder. “I got into a fight with Mingyu,” he admits with a small sigh._

_“Ah, the roommate,” Junhui replies, contemplative. Minghao nods, frowning as Junhui pulls away. “Well, did you want to come in? I can get some tea running and I’m in the middle of trying to make shabu-shabu.”_

_Minghao smirks. “Shabu-shabu for just you?”_

_Junhui steps aside so Minghao can enter. “I’m just experimenting right now. I didn’t want to show anyone until I got better at it first,” he says, slightly embarrassed._

_Minghao quickly kisses Junhui’s cheek as he passes him. “That’s actually really cute,” he says, carefully toeing off his shoes._

_“Don’t patronize me, kid,” Junhui teases as he closes the door and leads Minghao to his dining room. He really did have the shabu-shabu pot set up with small plates of sliced meats and vegetables scattered around it._

_Minghao also notes the three Korean textbooks on the table, along with his cell phone propped up on a stand spouting a slow-sounding Korean conversation. “Hyung, what’s this?” he asks, pointing at them._

_Junhui closes the books and shoves them to the next chair over. He also pauses the conversation video and puts his phone face down. “Just some pronunciation stuff.”_

_“Because of when Yongsun-noona was teasing you?” Minghao asks._

_“It’s not important right now,” Junhui brushes off with a shaky sigh, pulling at his pants waistband. “You’re upset so I’ll go get you some tea. What’ll you have?”_

_“What’s going on?” Minghao asks gently._

_“It can wait. Let me take care of you first. I’ll go get some tea ready for you,” Junhui insists, scrambling to the kitchen. “What’ll you have?” he repeats loudly, opening a cupboard and looking through it._

_Minghao is still doubtful but Junhui seems insistent on dropping it. “Whatever you have here, hyung, it’s fine,” he calls back. He sits down at the table, propping his elbow and resting his chin in his hand._

_Junhui nods, pulling out a jar of dried leaves and scooping some into a small ceramic traditional tea pot, also getting some water boiling. When Junhui sits back down, he starts poking around his shabu-shabu bowl with one of the sticks, and starts loading up the meat and vegetables in it. When he’s done, he looks over at Minghao and mirrors his pose, quietly watching._

_“Hyung, you don’t know Mingyu, do you?” Minghao asks, pouting slightly. “He’s also a model but he says you've never met.”_

_“Outside of what you’ve told me? Can’t say I’ve had the pleasure,” Junhui replies, thumb coming up to brush something off Minghao’s cheek. “Kim Mingyu, right? We mostly just hear about each other. But I’ve seen some of his ads, he has a really great face, handsome, photographs well.”_

_Minghao frowns. “I would’ve introduced you but he really has some sort of problem with you.”_

_Junhui’s expression flickers._

_Minghao presses his hand over his eyes, stressed. “I don’t know. I tried to give him space but he was even upsetting his manager. He seemed upset that I hired you before, that I got hired with your company.” He takes a deep inhale, not sure if he wants to finish._

_Junhui slowly nods, humming out a noise that he’s still listening. His eyes are firmly focused on him, bright and attentive._

_“I don’t know. Every time he’s been upset, it’s been about you. Sometimes I don’t even say anything and he brings you up just to get upset.” Minghao wipes a hand down his face in frustration._

_“Because of the rumor thing?” Junhui asks in a small voice._

_Minghao shakes his head. “I have no idea.” He presses his hand over his eyes again. “It was so hard to tell him we were dating since he was so hostile about you before. But today… I had to get out of there when he made it sound like I only got hired because I was sleeping with you.”_

_Junhui doesn’t say anything but Minghao feels a warm hand covering the one he has resting on his thigh. Minghao isn’t really expecting Junhui to have an answer, he just wants to keep talking._

_“Even if he didn’t like you, I was at least hoping he’d respect that I do. But that,” Minghao says, puffing out a deep breath, “that felt like saying he didn’t believe in my skills, that I only got where I am because I’m sleeping with you. I don’t know if he was trying to take a shot at you and hit me instead but he was just….” He trails off and checks Junhui’s expression._

_Junhui takes a deep inhale through his nose. “That’s hard. I don’t really know Mingyu personally, but I’d say let the both of you cool off for now,” he says, getting up to check on the boiling water in his kettle. “He probably didn’t mean it like that.”_

_As Minghao watches him carefully pour the water into the teapot, he wonders how Junhui could be so unaffected by what Minghao was saying. Soon, Junhui looks around the kitchen to produce a tray from the cabinet under the sink. He loads the teapot and two cups onto the tray and goes into the fridge, pulling out a container of sliced lemons. He places some on a small plate that he also puts on the tray._

_As he’s bringing the tray back to the table, Junhui grins. “But you know, if he’s really so bothered by you sleeping with me, we could go a couple rounds, really stick it to him,” he says, nodding his chin in the direction of his bedroom as he puts the tray down and takes his seat._

_Minghao presses his lips together to try to stop the laugh that threatens to burst through and shoves Junhui’s shoulder. “Don’t be gross, hyung,” he whines, the laugh coming out anyways._

_Junhui still has a grin on his face when he takes one of the cups, squeezing a lemon slice over it. “Oh, so sleeping with me is gross now? Maybe_ that’s _why he’s so upset.”_

_Minghao’s lips form a tight line as he tries not to smile before he sips his tea, grateful he can hide behind his cup. When he tastes it, the tea seems familiar. “Peppermint tea?”_

_Junhui leans his elbow on the table again, waving his arm back and forth. “Yeah, Shua-hyung recommended it and he got me some from the store, thought it would help calm me down.” He pauses, angling his head to check Minghao’s expression. “Is it okay?” he asks, worried._

_“It’s nice, thank you,” he says quietly, smiling. Minghao doesn’t know if he should ask_ why _Junhui would need to calm down, why Junhui and/or Jisoo thinks he needs to. Maybe it’s not the right time._

_Junhui puts his cup down and sits his chin back in his palm. “You’re pretty,” he says suddenly, smiling warmly._

_Minghao’s rapid blinking has returned and he takes note of how Junhui’s staring right at him. He sighs, amused. “Being pretty doesn’t solve my problems, hyung.”_

_“Imagine if they did though,” Junhui starts, almost laughing, “then—”_

_“You’d have no problems, right?”_

_Junhui looks surprised. Surprised and touched. “Aww, [HaoHao], you finished my joke for me!” he says, beaming, lightly shoving Minghao’s shoulder. “I knew I liked you.”_

_Minghao presses his lips together again to try to control his smile._

_Junhui kneels up in his chair and leans over to check on the meat and vegetables in the shabu-shabu pot. He pokes around at them for a bit before sitting back down. “Couple more minutes,” he sighs._

_Minghao nods, sipping more of his tea. “Does it bother you?”_

_“Does what bother me?”_

_“That Mingyu seems to hate you.”_

_Junhui shrugs, propping his elbow back on the table, leaning his cheek on it. “I don’t really know him. It bothers me that it bothers you.” He traces circular patterns with his finger along the table’s surface. He pauses and checks Minghao’s expression, which must be some kind of bewildered because Junhui chuckles. His hand comes up to poke at Minghao’s cheek. “It doesn’t directly bother me is my answer. But it’s important to you, so I don’t really like it either.”_

_Minghao sighs into his tea cup, lost._

_Junhui sips at his tea, sighing lightly. “I’m sorry you guys are fighting,” he says. “If you need to take a break from us so you can fix it—”_

_Minghao’s hand clamps around Junhui’s. “It’s not your fault so you shouldn’t have to… do this.” He shakes his head quickly. “I don’t want to take a break from us. I’ve been trying to split my time for him too and if he’s not happy with that just because you’re here then he’ll have to deal with it.” He dips his head, watching Junhui in a sort of warning glance. “Okay?”_

_Junhui utters a stunned, “Okay,” so Minghao lets go of his hand._

_“Are you going to tell me what those textbooks were about?”_

_“Oh,” Junhui drones. “Pronunciation stuff I wanted to practice. After the commercial, Siwon-hyungnim wants to throw me into a very minor role in a drama. I’ll probably have like maybe three lines but I don’t want to mess them up.”_

_“Wait, Jun-ah, that’s great. Why didn’t you say anything?”_

_Junhui sighs, checking his shabu-shabu bowl again. “I wanted to get better first before I mentioned it.”_

_Minghao smiles with a slight hum. “That’s really cool.”_

_Junhui lets out a light scoff. “Don’t patronize me, kid,” he returns with a smirk of his own. “Besides, you had your own stuff to worry about.” He starts unloading the vegetables and sliced meat. “And as much as I love having you here, I think you should go back and talk to your roommate. He’s probably beating himself up about it too, you shouldn’t close yourself off to him.”_

_Minghao stares at Junhui’s face, heart filled with a sort of fascination, but not for the usual reasons. “How do you do that?”_

_“Do what?”_

_“Mingyu seems to really hate you but you still want to take his side.”_

_Junhui shrugs, not looking away from the shabu-shabu pot. “He’s your best friend, right? You must have picked him for a reason. I trust your judgement.”_

_Minghao blinks, the butterflies in his stomach coming back. They, of course, slightly stutter when Junhui adds, “And you’re going out with me. Perfect taste.” He does his staggered attempt at a wink again and Minghao has no choice but to shove his shoulder._

_While Junhui complains that it’s a compliment to Minghao, all Minghao can think about is what he’s going to say to Mingyu when he gets home._

*****

Luckily for Minghao, Mingyu gets called over to have his makeup retouched before his solo section starts. He doesn’t think he can stay having that conversation with him. Sometimes Mingyu digs and doesn’t know when to stop, even if he’s already hit the soft point. 

He walks up to Hansol who is currently going over some last few adjustments with his camera. 

Hansol notices him and does a double-take, hands pausing. “Oh, hey hyung,” he says distractedly. He stands upright, as if disturbed by Minghao’s presence. “Uh, can I ask you something?”

Minghao tips his chin at him. “Sure.”

“This might be weird but….” Hansol looks down, tightening his lips in his mouth a couple times. “Before, you told me that love at first sight wasn’t real, right?” 

Minghao blinks quickly, heart quickening. Hansol’s tone sounds unusually serious. Concern probably isn’t the right word for what Minghao’s feeling but it comes close. “I did.”

Hansol sighs, contemplative. “What about like, at least a connection? Like, you don’t really know them that well, because you can’t yet. But you feel like you could. Or like, you think you understand them somehow? And they kind of get you too. Maybe it’s not exactly love yet but there’s something there.” He deflates, tone carrying a wistful seriousness that he even seems flustered by. “Is that real?”

Minghao doesn’t believe in love at first sight, but the connection Hansol’s talking about? He’s pretty sure that’s real. He was sure it was real when he met Junhui, that they were somehow connected from their first clumsy exchange. 

Falling in love came later, with Junhui’s warmth, his energy, his thoughts, and his heart, the way he told Minghao everything. Even the day he didn’t. Junhui had said that he knew he liked Minghao when he brushed his hair from his ear. Minghao thinks he knew when Junhui ran up to him when he crossed the street to go to that Chinese restaurant for lunch, when Minghao got to see Junhui’s eyes clearly for the first time. He thinks it’s what pulled him in, held him. 

Minghao wants to believe that Hansol isn’t somehow talking about Junhui, that they both somehow just have the same viewpoints on love and fate and connection. Minghao wants to believe Hansol is talking about someone else, someone Minghao doesn’t know. 

Minghao tries to hide his disappointment that it’s not a question about the shoot. He wants very badly to ignore this conversation, at the familiarity of it all, but he can’t do that. 

He licks his lips, tightening them in his mouth and he nods before he finally answers, “It’s definitely real.” He starts nodding as a look of relief washes on Hansol’s face. “It’s real, it’s in their eyes.”

“Their eyes…” Hansol repeats, musing to himself. His head starts bobbing too, putting it together and he grins. “Thanks, hyung.” He seems remarkably lighter as he heads off to start Mingyu’s session.

Meanwhile, Minghao has to take a deep breath to steady himself. He can’t help but think that maybe he wasted whatever connection he had to Junhui, that it came to them far too early in their lives. Because Minghao was always getting the timing wrong.

Maybe if he had been a bit more greedy, if he hadn’t encouraged Junhui so hard, if he held back.

He can’t help but wonder if there was a version of himself out there that got everything right, that had the timing come easy, if that version would be married by now.

+++

Junhui watches Mingyu’s shoot from a seat beside Wonwoo. Mingyu seems very comfortable with the camera, although Junhui doesn’t really know what he expected. He’s probably been doing this for longer than Junhui has, especially since Junhui took that break in between. He also notices Minghao, still standing a few feet away from Hansol, watching with his arms folded.

“Wonwoo-yah, compliment me?”

“You have a functioning nose,” Wonwoo drones.

“Thank you!” Junhui chirps. “You missed me when I was in Jinhua, right?” he asks in a childish pout, leaning his head on his shoulder. He waits a few seconds and hears no response. “Wonwoo-yah?” He looks up and notices Wonwoo’s eyes are very much distracted. 

Junhui waits a few more seconds before sitting up and slapping his shoulder. “Wonwoo-yah, you’re staring.”

Wonwoo looks away from the photography area, blinking quickly. “What? He’s a model, I’m allowed to look. I could do the same for you when you go up there.”

Junhui grimaces, leaning his head back down. “Gross,” he huffs. He flickers his eyes to Mingyu again, wondering if it was worth mentioning that he was the roommate of Minghao’s that didn’t like him. It seemed like a moot point by now, considering how nice Mingyu was to him. “Want me to get his number for you?”

Wonwoo scoffs. “He already asked for my email so he can send me something.”

“Nudes?”

“Please shut up,” Wonwoo groans, shoving Junhui off him. He pulls his phone up again to watch some more videos. Mingyu already told Junhui he wants Wonwoo to look at a video for editing, but teasing Wonwoo is more fun.

Junhui watches the shoot again, how closely Minghao monitors Hansol, and wonders what he’ll do when Junhui goes up there. 

“Wonwoo-yah?” Junhui prompts quietly. Wonwoo gives a soft grunt in response and Junhui takes it. “I’m going to talk to Myungho, after the shoot is done.” He tucks his knees close to himself.

The hand holding Wonwoo’s phone lowers. “What are you going to tell him?”

Junhui runs his fingers along the cuffs of his pants. “I don’t know yet,” he says, sighing. “I still don’t know what I’m thinking when it comes to him.”

Wonwoo makes a small noise. “You could tell him what you told me.”

Junhui sighs, considering it. He doesn’t get to answer when he hears a call of “Junhwi-ssi!” and sees Mingyu waving him over as he’s wrapping up. 

“You better not stare at me,” Junhui jokes, pushing off Wonwoo’s knee to stand up. 

Wonwoo snorts a chuckle and waves a hand for him to leave already. 

To Junhui’s surprise, when he gets to Mingyu, he’s gesturing for him to look at the preview monitors. “What do you think?”

“You want _my_ opinion?” Junhui asks, leaning his head back.

“Yeah, why not?” Mingyu asks in return, grinning. 

Junhui looks over them and picks out a few that he likes, which Mingyu seems genuinely enthusiastic over. Mingyu hasn’t said or done anything to set it off, but the cloud of Minghao’s stories looms over again, eerie and heavy. 

Suddenly, it’s all Junhui can think about. 

He smiles. Then he shakes his head, chuckling to himself when he can’t stand it anymore. “Sorry, this is kind of awkward.” 

Mingyu pouts, tilting his head. “What is?” 

Junhui gestures a hand between them, back and forth. “It’s just, I was always under the impression that you hated me,” he says, finally releasing that worry from his chest. “And I’m kind of confused now.”

Mingyu’s mouth opens in what seems like astonishment and looks around, shaking his head. “Why would—? Oh, is that what Myungho—?” he asks, gesturing a thumb over his shoulder. 

Junhui nods, slightly shy. 

“When you guys were—?” Mingyu continues, still suddenly cutting himself off. His eyes swell; it almost seemed as if Mingyu wasn’t sure that he was allowed to mention it.

Junhui nods again, brushing some fringe away from his eyes. “When I was dating Myungho, yes.” 

“He told you I hated you?” The way Mingyu is shrinking into himself makes Junhui feel marginally bad for bringing it up but he can’t turn back now.

Junhui keeps nodding, chuckling nervously. “He was pretty convinced, yes. He said it’s why he didn't want to introduce me to you back then.” From the looks of things now, Minghao seems to have made up with Mingyu while Junhui was gone. But he still wants to know. “Did you have a problem with me? I’m not _offended_ or anything, I’m just curious.” 

Mingyu shakes his head vigorously, waving his hands back and forth. “No. No, no, there was uh. There was a misunderstanding there.” 

Junhui’s head quirks to the side, curious. “Really?” He kind of wonders how there could be, with how Minghao used to talk about it.

“Yeah,” Mingyu replies, nodding quickly. Then he suddenly stops, staring downwards just off Junhui’s shoulder. “I didn’t hate you, really. It must’ve come off that way because at the time I had— That was just—” He pauses for a few seconds. “It wasn’t you. Myungho misunderstood. Sorry about that.” 

Junhui stares at Mingyu's face. He wants to ask what Minghao could have misunderstood back then but he’s too distracted trying to figure out why his heart aches and why a familiar feeling washes over him. He's barely spoken to Mingyu before, barely knows anything about him, so why does he feel like he knows this exact feeling radiating off him?

Mingyu seems to catch himself, pulling himself out of his trance and he smiles, dipping his chin down in a sort of reassuring nod. He reaches out and grabs one of Junhui’s hands between both of his, lifting it between them. “I hope that won't stop us from being friends?” 

“Yeah, sure.” Junhui wants to believe the offer is sincere. “That’d be nice.”

As Junhui gets ushered off for his solo shots, he looks over at Mingyu for a few seconds —he’s waving with a wide smile while his manager has come up beside him and is hugging his arm with his head on Mingyu’s shoulder. It’s an image not unlike how Junhui was with Wonwoo earlier. Mingyu could technically leave if he wanted now and Junhui isn’t sure why he’s staying.

Junhui’s gaze goes back to Minghao, standing a few feet behind Hansol with one hand across himself, the other at his mouth, thumb being mildly gnawed at again. 

Then it hits him, why he recognized the way Mingyu spoke earlier.

The faraway look, the wistful tone; that's how _Junhui_ talks about Minghao. It was like looking at a version of himself, one that talked to Wonwoo about his worries, hopelessly in love with a Minghao that pushed him away.

He wonders whether everything Minghao had told him about Mingyu all those years ago was about Junhui, as Minghao had believed, or if it was really about Minghao.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter was originally 11.4k so I just split it in half to make it easier to digest.  
> 


	11. I want the you that wants me (again)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so this chapter is longer than the last one(s?) but I'm not splitting it in half this time. idk why this is so long, I'm sorry.  
> anyways thank you to everyone that reminds me I'm not writing into a void. thank you for giving this a chance, I appreciate your presence a lot~ 
> 
> [Mandarin] - but also, in order to play fair, since I switch for Jun and Minghao's names depending on the language: Mingyu's Mandarin name is Minkui so if you see Minkui while they're talking with the square brackets, that's just Mingyu. Likewise, Hansol's is Hanlu. 
> 
> Chapter title is from Dead Leaves by BTS.

_Minghao closes the apartment door gently behind him._

_From here, he can spot Mingyu on the couch, having just bolted up, presumably from the sound of the passcode being punched in. Minghao toes off his shoes and walks towards him, a bit wary._

_Mingyu speaks first. “I left you some stir-fry,” he says, gesturing to the table now behind Minghao’s shoulder. “I wasn’t sure if you ate.”_

_“Thanks,” Minghao replies without looking back to check for it. He tosses his bag onto the couch cushion closest to him and watches Mingyu carefully, purposefully choosing his words, “I’ll get some later. I ate a bit at Jun-hyung’s.”_

_Despite his urging that Minghao go home to talk to Mingyu, Junhui still insisted that Minghao eat some of the shabu-shabu before he left._ “[Two bites, HaoHao, please! I have to make sure you’re healthy, I promised your mom. She thinks you’re getting too skinny.]”

_Junhui’s odd communication with his mother aside, Minghao really wants to see if Mingyu has any reaction to him mentioning that he went to Junhui’s. Something tells him he should have lied, or let Mingyu think he just went anywhere on his own, on another walk maybe. But Minghao’s been doing that for too long before. If he’s going to squash this, he’s going to do it now._

_“Oh.”_

_“We didn’t fuck or anything while I was there.” It comes out brusque, far more venomous than Minghao wanted. Maybe Junhui’s tea didn’t work that well to calm him after all. “In case you’re still concerned about my work integrity.”_

_Mingyu’s face scrunches up. “I deserved that.”_

_“Do you hate Jun-hyung so much that you’d insult the work I put my time and energy in just to take a shot at him?” Minghao asks, tired._

_Mingyu swipes a hand through his hair. “I don’t, I swear. It’s just that, I don’t want to see you get hurt.”_

_“I—” Minghao doesn’t know what to say to that. “So it_ is _about Jun-hyung,” he mutters under his breath._

_Mingyu doesn’t say anything._

_Minghao sighs. “That’s a nice sentiment but.” What is Minghao supposed to say here? That Mingyu is wrong because the things Mingyu seems to believe about Junhui are based on hearsay and conjecture? That the Junhui he’s been dating for the past three months has been mostly shy and careful with Minghao’s feelings and wants? Is there a point in starting a fight based on something Mingyu doesn’t really know? “Insulting my relationship with my boyfriend really isn’t the way to go about it. I can handle myself. I know what I’m doing.”_

_“I know, I’m sorry.” Mingyu’s voice sounds strained. “It slipped out and I regret it.”_

_Minghao bites on his tongue. He doesn’t want to say it’s fine because it’s not. Not yet. Minghao still needs time to be upset about it. Instead he says, “I know you’ve been… bothered by something lately and I’m sorry. But taking it out on me… You either believe what you said on some level or you pulled that out of nowhere just to hurt me and I don’t” —he takes a breath— “I don’t know which bothers me more.”_

_Mingyu sighs and gestures for Minghao to sit down. Minghao chooses to sit far across Mingyu._

_“I don’t really have an answer for you,” Mingyu admits, shaking his head. “I don’t blame you for getting upset.”_

_Minghao sighs, tucking a hand under his chin. He folds his knees close to him in the chair, considering what he wants to do. Silence stretches between them for a few minutes before Minghao speaks, “I think… I need some more time.”_

_“Okay,” Mingyu says quickly, the unspoken understanding between them bleeding through._

_Minghao feels there’s no point shoveling through that some more so he shifts gears. “I was wrong too,” he says carefully, “I should’ve told you about the portfolio thing earlier and not asked Kwannie to hide it from you. I’m sorry.”_

_“Ah.” A weak smile appears on Mingyu’s face that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “That’s how you met Junhwi, you said, right?” he asks, voice just as weak. “When you booked him for your portfolio instead?”_

_Minghao blinks. “Yeah.”_

_Mingyu breaks eye contact, staring off towards the stir-fry he mentioned before. “I….” He pauses and Minghao catches the movement of Mingyu taking a gulp, complete with deep unsteady exhale. “I was never an option, was I?”_

_Minghao’s head lulls to the side, concerned. “Hm?”_

_Mingyu’s face scrunches for a second. “Your portfolio.”_

_“Oh,” Minghao says, heart calming down from a race he didn’t even know it started. He doesn’t know what to say. He wished he did, a long time ago when he considered it. He’d taken Mingyu’s pictures a couple of times, they were leisurely, casual, but putting them in his portfolio didn’t feel right to him so he never did it. “I’m sorry.”_

_Mingyu lets out another sigh, still not looking at him. His eyes shift around and he gnaws at his bottom lip, leaning his elbows forward on his thighs. Then he stands up, patting his knees as he does. “I should put the stir-fry in the fridge.” He heads towards the kitchen without waiting for a response and Minghao doesn’t know why he feels worse._

_He takes out his phone and notices a text from Junhui. ‘_ [Did it go okay?]’

 _And a text from Seungkwan._ ‘Myungho-hyung, I’m just checking in if everything’s okay.’

_Minghao stares at his phone for a bit longer. He texts Seungkwan a brief summary, that he talked to Mingyu and they need some time but there’s no need for him to worry. He sends a small thanks and an apology for asking him to keep his secret for him. He asks Seungkwan to take care of Mingyu for now since he thinks he’s not the person to do that at the moment._

_With Junhui’s message, Minghao takes some more time before he decides to just call him, gathering his bag and heading to his room._

*****

Junhui doesn’t know what he’s thinking. 

Mingyu hadn’t said anything exact but Junhui somehow feels like he _knows._ The way he spoke about Minghao just now was too familiar for Junhui to ignore. The heaviness, the confusion, frustration, the regret of a misplaced anger, it rings far too close to Junhui’s heart. 

He wonders how close it rings for Mingyu.

Junhui doesn’t know what he’s thinking. 

It’s none of his business anymore. It shouldn’t bother him. Junhui has no right to be affected by this, right?

He does his best to follow whatever directions Hansol is giving him, pointedly avoiding looking at Minghao just off behind Hansol’s shoulder. 

He makes sure Hansol doesn’t notice. He can’t do this to Hansol, can’t ruin the shoot by getting distracted, no matter what his thoughts are. From what it sounded like, Hansol already put himself through a lot trying to wrestle this slot from Minghao, especially after the debacle in the hallway. 

Junhui can do this, he trained as an actor, after all. For a few minutes, he can act like his mind is where it’s supposed to be.

He’s sure Hansol, and even Jisoo, won’t be able to tell. 

+++

Myungho seems stressed.

At least that’s how Hansol sees it. And considering the past few years he spent working for him, Hansol thinks he has a pretty good grasp on Myungho’s basic work emotions based on the change in the air. He knows when Myungho is satisfied about a shoot, he knows when Myungho is especially proud and he knows when Myungho has a problem with something. 

However, this time, Myungho is stressed.

Stressed Myungho is the one Hansol’s only seen recently, when he gets particularly secretive and restrained, like he wants to say something but is clearly holding back for whatever reason.

Hansol thinks he should have known, considering he could already tell that Myungho would get particularly sensitive when it came to doing Junhwi’s shoot. This is why he asked to place it at the end, so that he wouldn’t have to deal with … whatever this Myungho is. 

As he clicks away at the camera, the pressure at the back of his head burns more than before. Myungho’s watching with that posture, one arm folded across himself with his other hand tucked under his chin. Hansol doesn’t have to turn around to know. 

He turns around to see his boss, in the exact position Hansol predicted. “Hyung, is something wrong?” he asks blankly. 

“Huh? Why?” 

“You have that weird aura again,” Hansol notes, glancing back at a curious Junhwi who might be wondering what the hold up is about. “Do you have a note you want to give me about how I’m doing?” 

Myungho seems flustered, caught off guard and eyes blinking back into focus. “Can I see the last few shots?” 

Hansol glances at Junhwi, who is remaining silent but with a sort of confusion on his face, and agrees, nodding and angling the camera towards him. 

Myungho walks forward, squishing his shoulder against Hansol’s to get a good look. He clicks his tongue as he scrolls through them. “Something’s wrong,” he murmurs, mostly to himself.

“Wrong?” Hansol repeats. He’s not sure if the feeling in his chest is shame or offense. 

Myungho quickly shakes his head. “It’s not you. Unless that’s the direction you gave him.”

Hansol doesn’t know what Myungho’s talking about. “I wouldn’t direct Jun-hyung to be ‘wrong,’” he says dryly. So far his plan for impressing Myungho with this shoot is going questionably, at best. Terribly, at worst. Hansol needs to think of a way to fix this somehow. It’s hard when he doesn’t know what the problem is.

“Are you happy with that?” Myungho asks, holding the camera so Hansol can see the preview screen. His tone is gentle but pressing, slightly firm. He knows Myungho isn’t upset or mocking him but….

Hansol stays quiet, jaw clenching. He doesn’t know how to answer.

“Hansol-ah, are you happy with that?” Myungho repeats, slightly softer and putting one hand on his shoulder. “I’m not saying you’re doing anything wrong, I’m just asking.”

Myungho is saying there’s something wrong, even if it isn’t him, so of course Hansol isn’t happy. “I’m not.”

“So this isn’t the direction you gave Jun-ssi?” 

Hansol shakes his head. “Hyung, exactly _what_ are you saying is wrong?” 

Myungho sighs, handing the camera back to Hansol. “The feeling isn’t there, something’s… off. I don’t know what it is.”

“Is it something I’m doing?” Hansol presses.

Myungho shakes his head. “I don’t think so. You should probably talk to him.”

“Me?” This isn’t the plan Hansol wanted. 

“It’s your shoot, right? You’re the main director. I’m just here,” Myungho replies, far too easily for Hansol’s liking. 

But Hansol nods anyway and makes his way over to Junhwi. “Jun-hyung, is everything okay?”

Junhwi tilts his head. “Yes, why?” he asks, sounding concerned. “Are the shots not coming out how you wanted?”

Hansol frowns, looking through them on the camera around his neck again. “They are but… not how Myungho-hyung wanted.”

Junhwi clicks his tongue. “What? No, remember I said you can try shots Myungho doesn’t use? As long as you like it, it’s fine, kid. Don’t impress Myungho by copying his style. I know he’s your boss and all but trust me. Just tell me what you want me to do, okay, Hansollie?” 

The change to his makeshift nickname makes Hansol feel a bit better. “Can you put more feeling into it?”

Junhwi blinks. “What kind of feeling do you want?”

Hansol glances back at Myungho, as if telepathically asking for advice. When he looks back, Junhwi is following his lead and also briefly looks at Myungho. Hansol thinks he catches a flicker of hurt on his face before it disappears.

“I’ll let you know as we go along,” Hansol answers. Junhwi gives a small nod and Hansol heads back. He looks at Myungho. “He says he’s fine.”

“Right.”

It doesn’t feel like Myungho is any more at ease. “Hyung, do you mind if I ask for your opinion on some shots as I go?”

Myungho blinks. “Huh?”

Even though he’s doing this to ease Myungho’s mind, Hansol figures the best way to word is to make it sound like Myungho is doing Hansol a favor. “I’ll show you the shots as we go for your approval. You can tell me what to fix.”

Myungho’s eyes seem suspicious, shaky, but he agrees.

*****

_Junhui comes by to visit Minghao for one of his photoshoots the next week._

_Minghao doesn’t notice until he turns around to start packing up and sees Junhui standing off to the side of the room._

_“What are you doing here?” Minghao asks with a bewilderment of a smile. Ever since his call to Junhui about the aftermath of his talk with Mingyu, Junhui has been particularly affectionate. But he never asks about the issue beyond what Minghao willingly told him._

_Junhui makes a show of casually looking around as he walks forward. His unusually long strides are back. “You’re always coming to see me so I thought it’d be good to visit you some time.”_

_Minghao chuckles a small huff, turning away while he looks through his camera. “It’s good to see you but don’t you need to be on set for the rehearsals?”_

_Junhui hums, following him. “I’m a minor side character, so I don’t have that many scenes to do. I mostly just watch the sunbaes doing read-throughs. They were almost wrapped up anyway I think.”_

_Minghao glances up at him, slinging the camera off his neck. “Hm, okay,” he says skeptically, “as long as you didn’t ditch them for me.”_

_Junhui scoffs, taking the camera from him. “You’re cute and all but I’m not_ that _disrespectful to my acting sunbaes.” He raises the camera to his eye, pointed at Minghao who rolls his eyes._

_He pushes his phone into Junhui’s hand. “If you’re going to take pictures of me, do it with my phone. Don’t use that camera. I don’t want Jeonghannie-hyung finding non-work pictures in there and coming after me. He grills me enough for breathing as it is.”_

_Junhui giggles and obliges, handing Minghao the camera back. “You know, I did ask him about that once and he just said he picks on you because he likes you.”_

_“ Tch, yeah right,” Minghao says, disassembling the camera lenses and popping the caps back on. As Junhui seems to find this activity fascinating enough to take pictures somehow, Minghao is still convinced Jeonghan’s problem with him has to do with Jeonghan’s mild threat towards him when he started. The sinister promise of something if Minghao ever broke Junhui’s trust in some way._

_Jeonghan is still protective of Junhui, even now._

_“[Junhui, how’s the acting stuff going?]”_

_Junhui looks away from Minghao’s phone screen. “[Uh? Oh, it’s going fine. You can come by if you want.]” Minghao has a weird feeling about how he said that. Before he can voice this, Junhui continues in a cheery voice, “Choi Minki-sunbaenim was showing me how to cry on command!”_

_Minghao frowns. “But you did that when you were a child actor too, right?”_

_“Yeah, but I’ve been out of practice,” Junhui dismisses easily, waving a hand up and down. “He was teaching me how to do it better as an adult, [HaoHao.]”_

_“Really?”_

_Junhui eagerly nods. “Yeah. It'll be cool.”_

_Minghao puts the camera down and turns to him, nodding. Junhui clearly wants to show this off and Minghao senses he shouldn’t stop him. “Yeah, okay.”_

_After he takes a deep breath, Junhui stares at Minghao. His eyes start welling up and reddening slightly. Some tears start falling down his cheeks and his bottom lip trembles. Something tells Minghao that this is probably the first time he’s really_ seeing _Junhui._

_The last time he got this feeling, it was brief, fleeting. That stolen moment during the meeting with Seungcheol, when Junhui grabbed his hand under the table and held it so tight Minghao was worried he’d crush it._

_There’s a catch in Minghao’s throat, a weird omen of something that prompts him to step closer and slip his hand into Junhui’s. “[Gē, you know you can tell me some of your worries on your own too, right? You don’t have to say you’re fake crying on command just to have an excuse to cry in front of me.]”_

_“Huh?”_

_The corners of Minghao’s lips lift in a soft smile, leveling him. “[Why are you trying to lie to me?]” he asks, trying to keep his voice light._

_Junhui takes a noticeable gulp. “[You can tell already, can you?]”_

_Minghao lifts his shoulder, casual. “[Maybe you just suck at lying.]”_

_Luckily, Junhui plays along, knows his part. “[I resent that. You said I was a great actor.]” His grip around Minghao’s hand tightens._

_Minghao chuckles. “[I’m kidding, I can really just tell. There’s this look in your eyes. Like you’re holding back on something.]” He tilts his head. “[I spent a lot of time looking at your face so I’m pretty sure I can tell what look it is. Also, it’s a nice face.]”_

_“[I think I’ve heard that somewhere before,]” Junhui replies, smirking again. Minghao lightly slaps his arm with his other hand and Junhui only mildly flinches. “[Is this what we’re going to do now? Repeat conversations to each other?]”_

_“[I mean,_ I _liked it,]” Minghao says, shrugging. “[I thought we were flirting.]”_

_Junhui’s head quirks, interested. “[Oh, we’re flirting now? You should tell me next time so I’ll be more prepared.]”_

_Minghao swings their arms back and forth. “[Hm, we don’t_ have to _flirt now.]”_

_“[Huh?]”_

_“[I know you think you can’t say anything to me because of what’s going on with Minkui. But do you think I don’t get worried about you too?]” Minghao reasons. There are a few more words on the tip of his tongue that he can’t quite say yet._

_Junhui stares at him for a bit and the next tears that come down are real, unrelenting, ripping from his heart. The sight would have torn at Minghao’s own heart if he hadn’t already been convinced that this is what Junhui needed._

_Junhui lets out a few things that Minghao only had inklings about, that he’d learned the entire script Siwon gave him despite only appearing for about four lines on page ninety-seven; that sometimes he fumbles on the lines and a habit from when he was a child actor in China slips out instead and despite everyone saying it’s okay, it still bugs_ him; _that Siwon is super nice but it makes Junhui feel a bit more guilty for asking for extra coaching and practice; that Junhui wants to explore more roles but isn’t able to; that he worries that if he does get more roles, he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to balance his time between acting and Minghao because he desperately wants to keep both._

_Minghao doesn’t ask why Junhui didn’t say anything this time. Instead, he just holds Junhui’s head closer to his chest, says he understands, it’ll be okay, to let it all out, that Minghao will still be here. As much as Minghao likes his shirt and his heart winces at the thought of it being wept on, he likes Junhui a lot more._

_+++_

_Minghao decides to come to Junhui’s next rehearsal the next week._

_Junhui’s scene doesn’t appear until the lead actor goes into a coffee shop and orders something so Minghao waits._

_Between each break of the run-throughs, Minghao notices the look on Junhui’s face and goes over to him._

_“[You’re too tense,]” he says, putting his hands on his shoulders. “[Take a deep breath for me, okay?]” Minghao instructs, smiling and trying to get Junhui to look at him._

_Junhui’s breath is still shaky but he nods anyway, doing his best to smile at Minghao. Minghao demonstrates a few deep breaths for him, waiting for Junhui to follow along until he seems more steady._

_“[I know you’re beating yourself up for not being able to get it like how you see it in your head but I promise no one is going to hold it against you. You’re doing fine.]” When Junhui gives him a worried look, Minghao presses on, “Director Siwon-nim would’ve told you if you were messing up.”_

_Junhui nods, looking over at Siwon talking to what Minghao is assuming is a set staff member._

_“[I’ll be here,]” Minghao says, letting go of Junhui’s shoulders and letting him jog back._

_Like he said, Junhui only has four lines. But each time, Minghao can tell Junhui’s delivering them with everything he has. There’s some slight hesitation, careful with how he says certain lines but he thinks it works out, even if Junhui doesn’t see it._

_Since he’s a minor role, he gets released early._

_Junhui asks to stay and watch some of his seniors continue with their scenes. Minghao agrees and stands beside him, holding his hand. Jisoo stops by to tell Junhui he'll talk to Siwon for a bit and then they can head out, squeezing Minghao’s shoulder as he passes._

_Junhui takes a shaky breath, eyes not leaving the scene his seniors are engrossed in._

_Minghao holds Junhui’s hand tighter, carefully studying Junhui’s face._

_There’s a fascination there, Mingaho decides, that watching the performances of the other actors lights up something in Junhui’s eyes, that it’s something he really wants to strive toward. Junhui kept saying he tried acting again because Minghao had brought it up, but Minghao thinks it was always inside Junhui anyway. Maybe he ignored it for too long and just needed a push._

_Junhui finally turns to him, eyes wordlessly shifting between Minghao’s for an extended period of time. It doesn’t feel as awkward or as uncomfortable in the silence as it did once before. There’s a sense of calm and Junhui’s lips slowly pull into a gentle smile. He opens his mouth and brightens like he’s about to say something, but he stops himself._

_Minghao quirks his head. “Hm?”_

_Junhui shakes his head in a gentle dismissal. “Nothing,” he says, eyes still sparkling. “I’m glad you’re here. Thank you.”_

_Before Minghao can question it, Junhui leans forward, draws Minghao to him with a hand at his jaw, and claims his mouth in a gentle kiss._

_Their lips melt together the same way they usually do, slow, comfortable, but it somehow feels different. He can’t quite put his finger on why yet. Junhui’s hand cups his cheek, slightly tentative, so Minghao leans into it._

_When Junhui deepens the kiss and holds him closer, Minghao feels like he understands. Something wraps around his heart, strings or ribbons maybe, and Minghao knows he was wrong before; this is the closest he is to really seeing Junhui._

_It feels like something around Junhui is unravelling, falling apart, and trusting Minghao to catch the pieces, arrange the strings. The familiar warmth in his chest flares up again and Minghao hopes that he can use it to burn whatever Junhui’s using to protect himself. Minghao wants Junhui to know he doesn’t need them anymore._

_Junhui pulls back, cheeks lightly stained with tears that Minghao tries to gently brush away with his thumb. Junhui looks down, hesitant, and takes a breath like he wants to say something again. Once again, he stops himself, settling for a warm smile. His hand lowers from Minghao’s cheek to the side of his neck, pausing._

_This time, Minghao can tell what Junhui’s trying so hard to say but can’t bring himself to yet. He smiles back and moves in for another kiss and Junhui doesn’t stop him._

_Minghao will wait a bit longer to tell Junhui he feels the same, when he thinks Junhui’s ready to hear it._

*****

After a few shots, Hansol observes the screen and tilts his head. “Hyung?” he calls, beckoning him over. Minghao hadn’t wanted to impose on Hansol or tell him how to do his job since he clearly wanted it, so he’s glad Hansol seemed to drop whatever pride he had preventing him from asking for help.

Minghao looks at Hansol's screen. Something still feels off. “[Junhui!]” he calls instinctively. He locks his fingers together and puts them on top of his head. “Do me a favor?”

Junhui makes a curious grunt towards him. “Yeah?”

“Take a deep breath. You’re too nervous, it’s showing up on camera.”

“A-Ah.” Junhui nods a few times and does as instructed, taking a deep inhale.

Minghao nods to himself, satisfied. “Just shake it off, hyung, you’re doing fine.” He goes back behind Hansol to observe. 

Hansol turns his head slightly to try to look at Minghao, eyes squinting curiously before he turns back and continues the shoot with Junhui. Minghao pretends he doesn’t notice Jisoo off to the side watching them. Or Seungkwan’s suspicious glance. 

Hansol continues for a few more minutes, taking a couple more shots, looking at the preview screen a few times before showing Minghao again for a second opinion. 

When Minghao looks at it, he’s not exactly happy; there’s something off about how Junhui appears in it, like his eyes are still off somewhere. Normally, that would be a good image but this time, it doesn’t feel right; something’s still wrong.

Minghao clicks his tongue and quirks his head to the side, feet already moving towards Junhui before he knows it. “Hansol-ah, call for a break.”

“Wait, what?” Hansol asks, serious. “Hyung, why? Am I doing something wrong?” 

Minghao shakes his head, already in front of Junhui. “Hey, Jun-ah, hyung,” he starts in a soft voice. 

Junhui’s mouth opens as if about to make a curious noise, quirking his head. 

“[Junhui, you’re too tense. Are you okay?]” he asks quietly. “Do you want me to call Wonwoo over for you?” 

Junhui purses his lips, tilting his head. “[You think something’s wrong?]” His voice is just as quiet, strained, a bit like he’s challenging him. “Hansollie didn’t say anything.”

A hand squeezes around Minghao’s and he belatedly realizes he’s slipped his into Junhui’s at some point, probably when he walked up. 

He can act all he wants but Minghao knows something’s off. Junhui always _was_ a bad liar, after all.

Minghao quickly shakes his head. “[I can tell. Your eyes do this thing. You’re doing the movements but the feeling isn’t there. Look at me.]” He puts his other hand on Junhui’s shoulders, trying to square him into looking directly at him.

Junhui still has this look on his face, like he’s still going to act like he doesn’t know what Minghao’s talking about. 

“[You’re too tense, it’s coming across too strong on camera, you have to loosen up,]” Minghao continues gently before giggling and lightly shaking his shoulder. 

Junhui breathes a light sigh and looks at Minghao. His eyes have some of the helpless anxiousness that Minghao remembers. He recognizes this but it doesn’t make him happy. 

“[There are no lines or anything, it’s fine,]” Minghao says carefully. He’s a bit thrown off when Junhui lets out a low chuckle instead, shaking his head lightly. 

“[It’s not about that,]” he says in an amused almost-whisper, tugging at Minghao’s heart at how Junhui once again indirectly confirmed that there _is_ something. “[You forgot what I was doing for three years, did you?]” he teases, lips pulling in a smile.

Right. This is a Junhui that doesn’t need him to calm him through his filming anxiousnesses anymore, a Junhui that has grown past needing Minghao. It’s a bittersweet feeling that he doesn’t quite know how to swallow. 

Junhui seems to notice his sour expression and smirks. “[It’s cute that you tried though.]”

Minghao’s eyes flutter a few stunned blinks, trying to ignore how much he sounds like the Junhui he first met and the tingle it sends down his spine. “[Whatever it is, we can talk about it after,]” he mumbles instinctively, watching the look in Junhui’s eyes change slightly. “[If you want.]”

Junhui lets out a small chuckle. “[Yeah, okay.]”

Minghao gives a squished, reassuring smile, looking up at Junhui’s face to make sure he really is okay. It’s strange how Minghao feels like he’s back where he was before, how it’s familiar but not exactly out of place. It’s strange how Minghao has fallen back into an instinctive reaction from years ago and Junhui is okay with it. 

It’s strange how Minghao could almost believe Junhui is his again. 

He doesn’t know how long he’s been watching Junhui’s face or how close he is to it until there’s a sudden flash from his right, breaking the spell. Minghao’s rapid blinking returns as he brings himself back down to reality. Reality where everyone else existed. 

The quiet world no longer belonged to them and moments that used to be intimately theirs now in the open for people around them to see.

Minghao looks over and sees Hansol holding the camera, panic filling his eyes and holding his hand up in a ‘my bad’ motion, trying to gesture that he pressed the button by accident.

Junhui chuckles. “You should probably get back there,” he says in a low voice, tilting his head and signalling towards Hansol with his eyes. 

Minghao clears his throat and tries to recover by swiping outwards at Junhui’s shoulders as if there were just so much dust he was trying to remove. “Yes, right. Back there.”

Junhui offers a small amused smile and nods once. “I’ll be fine now, don’t worry.”

A selfish part of Minghao wants to linger, but he returns the nod. “I believe you.” He pats the sides of Junhui’s arms in an over-compensatory show of casual and he turns, making his way back to Hansol. 

In turn, Hansol instinctively starts taking steps back as Minghao gets closer. “Hyung?”

Minghao points his finger at him, approaching. “Show me the camera.”

Hansol protectively hugs it against his chest. “Nuh-uh. This is _my shoot,_ remember?”

Minghao gives him a dry look. “You had no problem showing me before.” He takes more steps towards him, almost chasing him down.

“That’s because there was a problem before and I needed your advice!” Hansol argues, almost whining.

“Are you saying there’s no problem now?”

Hansol confidently shakes his head, pursing his lips. “Nope, no problems. You helped Jun-hyung refocus so it’s fine now. No need for you to look,” he replies, still holding the camera close to him.

Minghao sighs, looking back at Junhui who is just smirking and waiting, hands shoved in his pockets, head tilted down and eyes looking up at him. He pretends he doesn’t feel four other pairs of eyes in the room on him. “Fine, Hansol-ah, continue.” He waves his hand, crossing his arms and stepping aside so Hansol can get back in position. 

Hansol grins and continues the shoot, directing Junhui through a few poses that Minghao hears Junhui give a small apology to Hansol for. 

Minghao bites his thumb as he watches. He glances around and notices Mingyu with an all-too-knowing grin, slowly lifting his hand to cover a scandalized Seungkwan’s eyes as he hugs Mingyu’s arm. Wonwoo just seems mildly interested, looking up from his phone with a blank expression. 

None of them are who Minghao is worried about, however. 

He thinks his heart is about to burst out of his chest when Jisoo walks up and stands beside him, the steps smooth and casual. 

“[That seemed practiced, just now]” Jisoo says, focused on watching Junhui. Minghao hates how Jisoo can do this, talking so that his voice reveals nothing.

His eyes drift over as best he can without moving his head too much. “[It’s happened before.]”

Jisoo hums. “[I’m sure it has. He did that a lot in Jinhua, you know,]” he notes, folding his arms across himself. “[Doing his best to do the motions but his mind was distracted. It was far harder to tell then. Most of the directors didn’t notice. Even I could barely tell until he told me after the shoot wrapped. I never did what _you_ just did though.]” He laughs a little to himself. 

Minghao takes an unusually heavy gulp. “[You heard us?]”

Jisoo shrugs. “[Was I not supposed to? You’re in an open space, after all.]”

Minghao can’t really argue that point, can’t even say that he forgot either. He supposes he didn’t expect anyone else to really _understand_ them.

“[It’s nice,]” Jisoo continues, still watching the shoot taking place, even when Minghao turns his head to him. “[You’re still worried about him.]”

“[Of course I am.]”

“[Could’ve fooled me,]” Jisoo says, finally turning to look at him. “[Junhui told me. What he said to you when you broke up. So you can understand my doubt.]”

Minghao’s heart sinks, squeezes and drops heavy into the ground. “Oh.”

“[But apparently you tell the story differently. According to Hanlu anyway,]” Jisoo says, voice firm. He looks like he’s going to elaborate further on what Hansol told him but stops, seemingly deciding against it.

For a few moments, Minghao is convinced that’s the end of the conversation since Minghao has no defense. He knows he told Hansol a heavily edited version of the events. 

“[I’m not going to ask why but. Whatever you did,]” Jisoo finally says, sighing, “[or whatever he did, I don’t think it’d be the worst thing for you to fix it. I don’t want to interfere too much but Junhui… he worries about you too.]” The look on Jisoo’s face says that’s all he’s going to say, turning back to watch the shoot.

This is fine with Minghao because he already feels resolved to fix it, the agreement to talk about it after with Junhui unravelling any doubts and uncertainty he had. Whatever that moment was, the magic spell trapping them in their own world, lost in intuition and something resembling nostalgia, he thinks he can get it back. Maybe he can fix the timing somehow. 

*****

_The next weekend that comes up, Minghao decides they should go on a proper date since they hadn’t in a while._

_Of course, Junhui has no arguments. He tells Minghao he found a painting class they can take, not-so-subtly suggesting that Minghao use that to get his emotions out. When Minghao once again points out that it’s not Junhui’s style, he only responds with, “Maybe not, but you like it. And it’s important to you. I’m not as artsy as you so you’re not allowed to make fun of whatever I create.”_

_“[I would never,]” Minghao insists, giggling as Junhui still makes efforts to shield his canvas from him. He looks away from Junhui to focus on his own canvas. Obviously, he’s more practiced than Junhui so his hands move ahead on their own without heeding the instructor’s words about color theory and blending techniques. It’s a private session, just him and Junhui with the instructor since Minghao doesn’t think he can handle working on art with other people around right now._

_For this particular session, Minghao’s hands move without a specific image in mind, he just needs to put paint to canvas to visually express the strife swirling around inside him, the uncertainty of his current situation with Mingyu, the dense fog, the waiting._

_To his surprise, Junhui doesn’t try to peer over Minghao’s shoulder to try to see what he’s doing, nor does he try to start an idle conversation. He thinks that maybe they’ve just grown to be comfortable beside each other without speaking and it’s a sentiment Minghao enjoys._

_There’s also the possibility that Junhui’s just too focused on his own painting to want to talk but Minghao can’t say for sure._

_Minghao’s canvas has a strong mixture of black and greys, lurid and splattering against each other, overlaid so they can’t truly blend. It’s a result of Minghao flickering his wrist for some parts then going back later to add minute details afterward, chaotic and ordered all at once._

_He’s not sure why he’s then drawn to the yellow paints, hoping to use it to contrast the whole thing._

_“Oh, your concepts are…?” the instructor notes, passing by behind them._

_“Huh?”_

_The instructor, a kind older woman with a short bob haircut and warm eyes, smiles politely and nods towards Junhui, who really is focused heavily on his canvas. The canvas in question is very yellow; swirls of yellow on top of a calm blue and white mix that Minghao imagines is a sky. Junhui doesn’t seem to notice either of them staring until he reaches for the tube of green paint._

_“Yes?” Junhui asks, eyes watching them cautiously. “This is a judgement-free zone, right? I know you’re both experts but I feel really self-conscious when you’re just staring like that.” He squirts some of the green onto his palette._

_“We’re not judging,” the instructor says sweetly, hands folded politely in front of her. “We’re admiring. I was just telling Myungho-gun that you both have such contrasting concepts.”_

_“Oh,” Junhui says, shrinking into himself a little. He glances over at Minghao’s then back at his own. “Is that a nice way of saying mine looks basic?”_

_“No!” Minghao interjects. “You’re really amazing, Jun-ah.”_

_Junhui frowns, a little doubtful of Minghao’s words but ducks his head in embarrassment anyway, nodding. “It’s weird when you compliment me like that,” he says, fingers running over the familiar triangular earring on his left earlobe._

_“I thought you wanted me to compliment you?”_

_Junhui’s lips purse, cheeks puffing up in a slight pout. “I didn’t say it was a bad weird,” he says, looking around for a fine paintbrush to dip into the green paint. “I feel like those cartoon characters with the exaggerated heart rates and vomiting butterflies from their stomach.” He moves the brush in a downward stroke from the base of the yellow swirls; they were flowers. Just yellow flowers out in the sky but somehow, even in its simplicity, still seems fascinating._

_“What kind of cartoons have you been watching?” Minghao takes the tube of yellow, squirting a blob onto his palette to use. “But I guess that means I’m doing my job right, then, if you feel like that?” he replies casually. He picks a medium sized brush and places flickers of them in off places, offsetting the appearance of the fog of the grey._

_“You’re so shameless,” Junhui comments, snickering._

_“Tch, coming from you?” Minghao retorts. He briefly glances around and notices the instructor had walked away from them a while ago and made her way back to her station. Minghao doesn’t blame her. When driving them back from set once, Jisoo had commented that watching them be around each other was simultaneously cute and nauseating._

_Junhui doesn’t have a response, just continues smiling and painting his flowers. Minghao dips his brush back in for some more yellow paint. The yellow that lights up the fog and strife of Minghao’s lost emotions; he thinks it fits Junhui well._

_+++_

_After their paint class, they decide to head to a Chinese restaurant for dinner. Junhui had actually followed Minghao’s advice and not worn a hoodie but Minghao was still worried about him being spotted so he shoved a bucket hat on his head and they continued on._

_While in the restaurant, Junhui asks for his malatang to have an unusual amount of spice. Minghao only voices his frustration when the server walks away._

_“[Junhui, if you end up getting pulled from fashion deals because of your unhealthy eating choices and brands stop sending you clothes, I don’t think I’ll be able to forgive you.]”_

_Junhui dips his chin, watching Minghao’s expression carefully. “You’re serious.”_

_“Of course I’m serious.” Minghao basically has half a claim to Junhui’s wardrobe. Not that Junhui really minds._

_As he leans back in his chair, Junhui lets out an exaggerated sigh. “I should’ve known,” he muses. “You’re only with me for the clothes, [HaoHao], what did I expect.”_

_Minghao sighs, tucking a hand under his chin and leaning his elbow on the table. “I mean, the sex is nice too, I guess.”_

_Junhui snorts, taking a few chugs of water and stopping when the glass is about half full. He looks down at the table and uses a spoon to scoop the ice cubes from Minghao’s glass into his own, uttering a weak, “Screw you,” as he does._

_“Hm, I thought it was your turn this time?”_

_“Oh, right,” Junhui says absentmindedly, eagerly looking around the restaurant._

_“Jun-ah, stop looking for the server,” Minghao scolds._

_“The faster he gets here with my food, the faster I can eat it and you can’t stop me.”_

_Minghao clicks his tongue, shaking his head. “You’re a child.”_

_“Don’t screw me then.”_

_“Let’s not be hasty now.”_

_“Look, [HaoHao], if the food I consume is not even remotely spicy, a part of me_ dies, _” Junhui insists, putting both hands on the table. “I need this.”_

_Minghao closes his eyes, taking a deep breath. “I… the unhealthy eating thing hurts my brain. It’s hard watching you eat like that. I promised your mom I would make sure you stayed healthy.”_

_“You talked to my mom?”_

_“No,” Minghao admits, cheeks and ears heating up. He doesn’t know why he thought that lie would work. Probably because it did so well when Junhui used it on him._

_Junhui’s grin is amused, shit-eating even. “You know you can say you’re worried about my health without saying it’s for my mom, right?”_

_Minghao sighs, looking away. “Yeah, but I thought that might be weird.”_

_“Your concern for me is flattering, why would that be weird?” Junhui watches him. “Do… Do you want to, though? Meet my mom?”_

_Minghao feels his heart beating too quickly again. “You’re serious?”_

_Junhui looks at their water glasses, nodding. “Yeah. If you want to. As long as you don’t mind my younger brother since he’ll probably be there.” The way he says it makes it sound so easy somehow, but Minghao thinks he knows Junhui enough by now to guess that he’s been sitting on that for a while, waiting for Minghao to say something first. “And I suppose it’s fair since I’ve been talking to_ your _mom.”_

 _“I introduced you_ once, _” Minghao points out._

_“Yeah, but she messages me sometimes asking why she can’t get a hold of you.”_

_Minghao frowns. “I don’t ignore her messages,” he says, pouting. He’s going to have to ask her about that later. “And she probably just likes you because she says you’re handsome. She gave me an earful of a warning if I ever let you go.”_

_“Aw, so_ she _knows I’m a catch!” Junhui says, completely shameless._

_Minghao looks at his now ice-less water glass and sips from it. “I didn’t say you weren’t,” he replies, tone even. “But I’d like to meet your mom, yeah.”_

_Junhui’s gaze is back on him. “Okay. But like I said, my brother will probably be in the call so do not even_ allude _to the fact that you have seen me naked, okay? He’s an actual child.” He says it completely seriously but Minghao laughs anyway._

_“Of course. I’m not trying to taint the youth,” Minghao reassures. “I’m great with kids.”_

_The smile that hits Junhui’s lips is warm, fond even. It’s a brief second and Minghao takes out his small camera from his bag, turning back in time to see the server putting down Junhui’s steaming, very red malatang in front of him. Junhui’s gracious enough to mildly pose for Minghao before he digs in but Minghao is a little bummed he missed the moment. While he’s checking the pictures, the server delivers Minghao’s order of congee with a salad, to Junhui’s silent sneer._

_Minghao, on the other hand, has noticed that he doesn’t have as many pictures of or with Junhui as he would like. It’s something that has regrettably slipped his mind since growing accustomed to spending so much time in Junhui’s apartment._

_“Jun-ah? Can we go to the park later?” he asks, still going through the pictures in his camera._

_“Yeah, sure.”_

*****

After whatever that conversation was between Myungho and Junwhi, the shoot wraps up neatly and Hansol is pretty satisfied with the results.

Myungho had stopped burning holes into his head with his eyes and Junhwi’s movements had gotten lighter. He’s packing up his stuff when Seungkwan hops up to him. 

“So are you ready?” he asks, bouncing a little on his toes.

Hansol looks up. “Ready?” he repeats.

“Yeah,” Seungkwan replies, still cheery. “Like you’re all packed up and stuff. You said we could go talk to Moon Junhwi-nim, remember?”

Hansol smiles. “Oh, that. Right, sure,” he says, closing the case on the last of his equipment. His feet start moving towards Junhwi, off to the side with Joshua still, in some sort of serious-looking discussion. He sees Junhwi’s eyes move over to Myungho’s direction and Hansol stops walking, hand grasping Seungkwan’s wrist to get him to do the same.

“Hansol?” Seungkwan voices curiously, head moving between Hansol’s face and the hand currently on him.

Hansol shakes his head, remembering the urging he did for Junhwi to talk to Myungho, that weird moment they had during the shoot. If Hansol brings Seungkwan over to Junwhi now, will that ruin everything? Will it make Junhwi put off talking to him? 

Hansol’s mind goes back to the object wrapped in newspaper he insisted on bringing down to the set, sitting on the table, almost forgotten. “I uh, Seungkwan-ah, I think… now’s not a good time. We can talk to Jun-hyung later. I have to do something first.” He doesn’t know how to explain what happened during Junhwi’s shoot but he knows Seungkwan saw. He turns to him, already prepared for what he thinks he’ll say. “I’ll tell you everything tomorrow. I promise. For sure, this time.”

Seungkwan’s face seems contemplative, scanning over Hansol’s to check for any signs, then looks over to where Junhwi is for a beat before his gaze is back on Hansol. He purses his lips and nods. “Okay. Over coffee?” 

Hansol breathes out a sigh of relief. “Yeah, over coffee.”

Seungkwan doesn’t look as disappointed as Hansol would’ve thought, he just keeps nodding in understanding in this calm way that does _something_ to Hansol’s heart that he doesn’t know how to explain yet. “Okay. I still go to the same place, so I’ll see you tomorrow morning?” 

Hansol nods, focusing entirely too hard on keeping himself composed. “Yeah, I’ll see you.”

Seungkwan shifts his arm so that Hansol’s hand falls into his and squeezes it. “You better not down your coffee to avoid saying anything again,” he warns, voice light and Hansol knows he’s just joking. 

But Hansol still takes it seriously. “I won’t. I promise.”

Seungkwan looks like he almost wants to laugh at how seriously Hansol is speaking but refrains. “I believe you,” he replies, smiling. 

It starts feeling like they’re trapped in a moment, where each wants to keep saying something just so that the other doesn’t leave yet. Seungkwan still has a grip on his hand and Hansol doesn’t want to be the one to address it and make him let go. But he knows he has to. 

“Well, I should…” he says, gesturing a thumb over to where Junhwi is, “you know, uh, since I was in charge of the shoot and all. Make sure he’s… yeah.”

“Oh!” Seungkwan exclaims, letting go of Hansol’s hand and starts dusting off his pant legs a bit too self-consciously. “Yeah, of course. I should also… Mingyu-hyung is probably uh. I mean, I have his schedules and everything so I uh. You know how lost he gets.”

Hansol does not actually know. “Right,” he replies, nodding. “So I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah. See you tomorrow.” Seungkwan bows his head a little and scurries away before they get caught in another loop. He hears the cheerful cry of “Mingyu-hyung!” and a groan as Mingyu presumably gets tackled so Hansol figures he has to push Seungkwan out of his mind for now.

He goes over to the table to retrieve his “prop”, wrapped in newspaper, and heads over to where Junhwi is still talking to Joshua. Wonwoo, however, is resigned to his seat and is very focused on his phone.

Hansol catches them in a conversation.

“So Heechul-hyungnim got back to us. He says that Director Siwon-hyungnim left a while ago but he can still get in a good word for you with his replacement if you want,” Joshua says, reading off his phone. “He’s also asking if you have time to get dinner with him soon since he hasn’t seen you since you got back and he misses his son. It seems he’s been getting sentimental lately. He did also mention Myung—” Joshua stops, somehow disturbed by Hansol’s presence. 

Junhwi nods, glancing quickly at Hansol before looking back at Joshua. “Sure. Ask when Heechullie-hyung’s available then.” He nods towards Hansol. “What’s up, kid?”

Hansol wonders how often Junhwi will ask that when he sees him, if that’s another whim he has. He passes over his newspaper-wrapped cone. “Here. It was meant to be a prop but I didn’t get to use it,” he lies in an even voice, hoping Junhwi will buy it. From the corner of his eye, he sees the left corner of Joshua’s lips poking up in a smirk as he types away at his phone.

“What is it?” Junhwi asks, taking it in his hands. He peels back one of the newspaper pages, eyes moving over to Hansol as if to question if he really can. When Hansol nods, Junhwi stares at the slightly wilted purple-and-yellow bouquet for a bit before it clicks in his head, eyes narrowing. “Didn’t this belong to your boss?” He squares his gaze at Hansol for confirmation.

After Hansol had rescued Myungho’s bouquet from the trash bin, he had been doing his best to take care of it until the day of the shoot. He knew there was a reason it seemed to matter so much to Myungho and then suddenly didn’t. After his chat with Chan, Hansol was _sure_ Myungho threw it away too early. 

“Yeah. Well, it _did._ But he uh.” Where is Hansol going with this? “He suddenly didn’t need it anymore so I took it and uh, figured it would make a nice prop.”

“That you never used,” Junhwi finishes dryly, suspicious.

Hansol clears his throat. “Uh-huh. Must’ve slipped my mind until now.” The lies start feeling dry. He never intended on using it as a prop, but he figured it would be the best excuse to give for him trying to get it to the same location as Junhwi if he was ever asked about it.

“So why are you giving it to _me?_ ” Junhwi challenges. “Specifically?”

 _Because I’m pretty sure it was meant for you to begin with._ Hansol licks his lips. Myungho would hang him alive if Hansol somehow confessed to Junhwi _for him,_ no matter how good his intentions are. 

He darts his eyes to Joshua, just off to the side, still smirking like he’s already pieced together what Hansol’s doing and is content to watch him squirm. He decides to go as close to the truth as he can. “I’m pretty sure Myungho-hyung would want you to have it,” he says, doing his best to keep his voice controlled. “If I’m wrong, you can bring it back to Myungho-hyung yourself.”

The look on Joshua’s face —another quirk of the head, like he’s impressed at the audacity— tells Hansol nothing about whether he’s said the right thing or not. It just makes him more worried. 

“Oh, really? That’s peculiar,” Junhwi wonders aloud, voice not revealing much of anything. He’s staring at them like they’re fascinatingly foreign to him, fingertips idly brushing the petals. “I’ll talk to him later, he seems a bit busy right now,” Junhwi says, nodding to somewhere behind Hansol. 

When Hansol turns, he sees Myungho in another conversation with Mingyu. They don’t look like they’re arguing this time though, to Hansol’s relief. But he does find it curious how comfortable Seungkwan is latched to Mingyu’s arm. 

“I think I know how Heechullie-hyung felt now,” Junhwi muses from behind him. The comment doesn’t seem to be directed at Hansol so he doesn’t answer.

“Why’s that?” Joshua’s voice returns instead, amused.

Junhwi doesn’t respond and Hansol turns his head back in curiosity. He’s met with a knowing smirk on Junhwi’s lips and a glint in Joshua’s eyes. “I like him,” Junhwi says, nodding his head towards Hansol.

“What,” Hansol replies flatly, eyes moving between them disapprovingly. 

Junhwi grins. “You’re such a good kid. You think your boss would let me adopt you?” he asks, leaning forward over-actively. 

Joshua bursts into laughter, hand barely covering the sight. 

Hansol can’t help but smile at the sentiment. “Maybe. You’ll have to ask him.”

Junhwi hums, looking over the flowers again. It’s strange in that the way Junwhi is acting now doesn’t match with whatever Myungho was worried about during the shoot. Junhwi is acting like nothing unusual had even happened. Hansol considers asking about it but figures whatever it is would be best kept between Junhwi and Myungho.

That’s what he’s hoping for anyway.

For now, Hansol thinks he’s done enough. Now, he decides to be a little selfish. “Jun-hyung?”

“Yeah, kid?”

“I still have one more request from you, right?” he probes, slightly nervous.

Junhwi’s brow shoots up in some form of amusement. Joshua only looks slightly intrigued. “Yeah? The one for your friend, right? You gonna cash in now?”

“I was,” Hansol admits, gaze drifting off to the side. “He wanted to meet you but I figured we’ll pick another time”

“That’s considerate of you.” Chuckling, Junhwi nods his head towards Joshua. “He’s the one with the schedule. Just make sure you don’t overlap with Heechullie-hyung.” 

Hansol has no idea who that is. “I’ll do my best.”

Junhwi smiles. He says something quickly in Mandarin to Joshua before his nose goes back towards the bouquet. He turns and starts heading out of the room, gesturing at Wonwoo to follow along, showing off the flowers, to which Wonwoo doesn’t seem all that amused. 

Joshua comes up beside him, showing him his phone. “So, what are you looking for? Like lunch, dinner?” 

Hansol drones an unsure tone; he didn’t confirm with Seungkwan what he would want. Or what Seungkwan’s schedule is. “Oh, I didn’t think about that.”

Joshua chuckles. “It’s not a fan-meeting or an interview, is it?”

Hansol shakes his head. “Nothing so formal. It’s just a friend of mine. One person. Who is still a fan of Jun-hyung.”

“Hmm,” Joshua replies, smirking. “Tell you what, I’ll give you my number and you tell me what works out for the both of you, okay?”

Hansol nods, taking his phone out. “That sounds great, thanks.”

*****

_As promised, Junhui and Minghao go to the park after their dinner._

_This time, Minghao is set on taking as many pictures as possible, even in the dark evening sky._

_It reminds Minghao a bit of their first date, with the park being his intended destination at the time anyway. This time, Minghao takes advantage of the fact that he’s helped disguise Junhui enough to hold his hand while they walk. Junhui doesn’t try to imitate any characters this time, but he does let go and rush off somewhere._

_“[Junhui?]”_

_He watches his boyfriend run over to a Jindo dog nearby, walking with its owner, a fairly young man probably in his late twenties in a whole windbreaker ensemble that Minghao doesn’t entirely disapprove of. Junhui seems to gesture at the owner, likely asking if it’s okay for him to pet the dog and play with it. The owner nods and Minghao makes sure to point his camera at the scene. While petting the Jindo’s head, Junhui looks around and waves Minghao over._

_While walking to them, Minghao watches Junhui chatting with the dog owner a bit more and the owner nods, squatting down to unbuckle the dog from its leash. By the time Minghao gets over to them, the owner throws a tennis ball into the park that the dog bolts after._

_Minghao is about to reprimand Junhui for rushing off carelessly but his dumbass boyfriend runs after the dog before he gets the chance. Shy, Minghao bows his head at the owner. “Sorry about him. Thanks for letting him play with your dog.”_

_The owner polites bows back. “It’s no problem. I’m just relieved that I don’t have to expend the energy today,” he replies, grinning wide and looking to make sure his dog is doing okay._

_Minghao points his camera and makes sure he gets as many shots as he can. He thinks there’s something easing about seeing Junhui so carelessly happy, lost in the simplicity of playing catch with a dog._

_Junhui running back and forth with the dog lasts at least five minutes before the owner decides it’s time to head home for the night. Junhui himself grins shamelessly at Minghao when he’s done, catching his breath. “See, I worked off all the spicy food, so don’t worry about my brand deals. I’ll get you those clothes,” he says, staggering wink returning as he puts his hands on his hips proudly._

_“You know I was joking about those, right?” Minghao asks._

_Junhui looks at him dryly. “No, you weren’t.”_

_“No, I wasn’t,” Minghao admits. “I really like those clothes.”_

_“I know,” Junhui replies, patting his shoulder. Then he puts his hands behind his back, pressing forward on his toes. “But if you’re_ really _worried about them, you could come to the gym with me tomorrow. Make sure we get those deals.”_

_Minghao chuckles at Junhui’s abruptly shy offer and the use of ‘we’ when Minghao is pretty sure he plays no part in whatever offers Junhui gets. “Sure. But you better not regret it later.”_

_Junhui beams, grabbing Minghao’s hands. “I won’t. I promise.”_

_Minghao feels his heart drumming against his chest and he thinks it isn’t fair. It isn’t fair for someone to look as wonderful as Junhui does now, bright smile, eyes soft and sparkling and deeply focused on him. It really isn’t fair._

_Something is strumming at the strings in Minghao’s heart, playing them melodically in a way that feels calm and soothing. And he thinks Junhui’s heart is resonating with his. Or rather, he knows it is. He can feel it in the way Junhui is looking at him with a steady confidence, holding his hand like he’d willingly hold it forever, and wrapping his arms around him like he knows they’ll keep each other steady._

_+++_

_Minghao does his best to lead Junhui to his own bedroom, a challenging task when he has his tongue in his mouth and he can't really see where he’s going. By now, he figures he should have the layout of Junhui’s apartment memorized, especially the path to his bedroom, but it isn’t really where his mind is right now._

_Somehow he gets it done and he nudges the door closed with his foot, spinning them around to shove Junhui against the door. Minghao's hands frantically work to get Junhui’s shirt off._

_“Hao,” Junhui sighs when they break away._

_Minghao chuckles. “[Gē, we're getting there,]” he mumbles, working on getting Junhui’s pants off. He quickly succeeds and starts palming Junhui through his underwear._

_Junhui lets out a strained whine, the kind that Minghao had loved hearing from him. As Minghao continues his task, Junhui lets out another whine that Minghao covers with his own mouth._

_Junhui pulls away. “Please.”_

_Minghao takes his hand off and moves it to his waist instead, sliding up his back. Junhui lets out a different whine and Minghao moves in to kiss him again. Luckily, Junhui lets him. Minghao leads Junhui to the bed and pushes him down, kneeling over him._

_He shrugs off his own shirt and cages his hands on either side of Junhui’s head, staring down at him. Junhui always looks pretty but Minghao always thinks Junhui looks absolutely stunning like this, face flushed, slightly out of breath, looking up at him expectantly._

_“What, did you forget something?” Junhui asks, apparently not satisfied with Minghao’s idle staring. “The stuff is in the drawer, remember? Or are you just admiring how good-looking I am?”_

_“Do you know I'm in love with you?”_

_Junhui’s face slowly absorbs what Minghao just said and seems stunned. Minghao himself isn't completely sure how it came out of him either but he's surprisingly okay with it. He loves Junhui. He probably knew that a while ago too. It doesn't scare him as much as he thought it would._

_“Huh? Where did that come from?” Junhui asks in a soft whisper. “Not that I’m complaining.”_

_Minghao hums, tilting his head to the side. “I don’t know,” he admits in a light voice. “I said it because I felt it, that’s all.”_

_It takes another few seconds for Junhui to register that answer. Suddenly he covers his face and starts giggling. “Oh my god, you're so cute,” he says, peeking through his fingers to look at him._

_Minghao gently moves Junhui's hands off his face and swoops down to kiss him, unbothered._

_“I love you too, by the way,” Junhui says softly when Minghao pulls back. “I love you, really. Now please, can we…?” He gestures his eyes down to Minghao’s crotch then back to his face, biting his bottom lip._

_Minghao chuckles. “[Whatever you say, gē,]” he says, moving down to kiss him again._

_When he presses into Junhui this time, it’s somehow different. It feels more complete, like everything is falling more into place, where it’s supposed to be._

*****

Minghao and Hansol return to the studio room hours later to work on the files at their desk. 

As opposed to Hansol, who seemed to have had time to chat with everyone, particularly Junhui, the end of the shoot hadn’t been as eventful for Minghao. Besides Mingyu’s absolutely shit-eating grin, accompanying _‘What are you going to pretend_ that _was?’_ and _‘Please talk to him, don’t make it weird for me to be friends with him.’_

Seungkwan, on the other hand, had been content to keep hugging his cheek into Mingyu’s arm, somehow quiet and contemplative when Minghao had been expecting a barrage of questions.

However, to Minghao’s annoyance, Hansol insists on editing this entire shoot on his own. No doubt to keep Minghao from destroying that one candid photo he took while Minghao was helping Junhui. At least that’s what Minghao’s calling it. And Minghao is hoping it was just one.

He glances over at the younger boy, a bit too self-conscious and curious about the contents of his SD card. Minghao is pulled from his thoughts when there’s another knock at the studio door and Junhui peeks his head in, eyes immediately going to Minghao before cautioning a look at Hansol.

“Hansollie, do you mind if I speak to Myungho?” Junhui politely asks, smiling apologetically. 

Hansol looks between the two of them warily and blinks, expression impassive although Minghao thinks he sees Hansol’s lips twitching a little, like he’s trying to hold himself back from making a face. He pushes his chair away from his desk, pocketing his SD card. “I'm gonna go see if they restocked the vending machine down at the lobby,” he drones to no one in particular and leaves the room. 

Junhui walks closer to Minghao's desk, closing the door behind him. The motion feels unusually intimate and Minghao wonders when they were last truly alone. 

“So you said we could talk after the shoot, right?” Junuhi asks, voice light and hopeful. “Do you have time now?” 

“Y-yeah,” Minghao responds, gesturing for Junhui to take a seat in Hansol’s now-vacant chair. “Something seemed off during the shoot so I was just concerned. What’s on your mind?” He tries to sound reassuring but he probably sounds nervous out of his mind. Because he is. 

Junhui cautions a glance at it and considers before he shakes his head, focusing back on Minghao. He finally pulls his other hand from behind his back, revealing the triangular, cone-like object wrapped in newspaper he saw Hansol with earlier. “Well first, I wanted to bring this back.” He peels back the pages of the newspaper and Minghao’s heart catches in his throat. 

In Junhui’s hands are the flowers he picked out the other week, the primroses not as vibrant purple nor the buttercups as brightly yellow as they were when Minghao initially bought them. Slightly wilted reflections of what they used to be. 

Just like Junhui, Minghao hadn’t expected to see them again after he threw them away. The thought is a little bitter in Minghao’s mind. 

“Back?” Minghao asks. 

Junhui nods, smiling down at them as his fingers play at his earlobe. “Hansollie gave them to me at the end of the shoot,” he says, adjusting the petals of the buttercups a bit. Minghao tries not to think about how his chest bunches up, conflicted at the mention of his assistant. His assistant, Hansol, giving Junhui his old flowers. “But I remember seeing them on your desk before. These were originally yours, right?” Holding the stems in one hand, Junhui cups his other hand under the heads of the flowers, extending his arms out to pass the bouquet to Minghao. 

He looks down at them, feeling his heart thumping too wildly in his chest. He thinks it’s symbolic in a way, Junhui returning his flowers like this as if he’s rejecting them, along with the thoughts and feelings Minghao had put into them. Mingyu _did_ tell him that his habit of assigning meaning to arbitrary things was both his artistic blessing and curse.

He wants to tell Junhui the flowers were originally always his, not Minghao’s. But he doesn’t know if that's something he can say now. “You should keep them,” he says instead, plastering on a smile. 

“Oh,” Junhui replies, sounding slightly shocked and maybe disappointed. His arms droop and he pulls the flowers close to him again. “Weren’t they a gift?” 

Minghao shrugs, doing his best to seem nonchalant. “They look better with you.”

Junhui makes another curious noise. “Ah. Thanks.” He picks at the petals again. 

“You don’t like them?” 

Junhui shakes his head. “No, they’re beautiful,” he muses, fingers pausing. “I was just thinking about something you told me before.”

_“I’m not getting you flowers, Jun-hyung. Flowers die. It’s best to leave them outside.”_

Part of Minghao thinks maybe he got ahead of himself back then, assuming that whatever they were was more enduring than the lifespan of flowers. He was reckless and foolish, thinking they were meant to last as long as the silver he gave Junhui instead. The folly of youth, he supposes.

Junhui clears his throat, redrawing Minghao’s attention. He puts the bouquet back on the desk, wiping his hands on his pant legs. “So uh, I wanted to talk about what happened before.”

“Before?” There are too many things that can mean. Before like during the shoot? Before Minghao went to Junhui’s apartment that day? Before Junhui left? 

“In the hallway,” Junhui clarifies. “Hansollie—” he starts, causing something in Minghao’s chest to flinch again, but Junhui pauses and reconsiders. “Sorry I wasn’t able to talk to you then. I had a meeting with Shua-hyung and some of the directors.” There’s a pause and Minghao’s mind automatically fills in the hidden _‘you know how it is’_ that used to be there. 

“Oh,” Minghao breathes. “Right. Of course.” He doesn’t know if Junhui can tell he worked himself into a frenzy, somehow taking his dismissal as a preemptive rejection. 

Junhui’s face is impassive when he says, “I uh, you were pretty upset then. I didn’t know you would be and I figured I should— I don’t know what Hansollie told you but he…. I thought I should… explain, at least. Whatever you want to know.”

It seems that neither of them are particularly eloquent at the moment.

Minghao clears his throat. “I thought you were avoiding me.”

“I was,” Junhui replies quickly, and Minghao’s chest tightens. Junhui wasn’t this forward before. “After the hallway. I needed some time to think. And you avoided me first.”

Right. That. Minghao doesn’t really have any excuse, foolishly hoping that Junhui would have forgotten. Or not noticed.

“I did,” he admits, forcing saliva down his dry throat. He stands up so they’re closer to eye level, the sight of Junhui looming over him not doing his stomach any favors.

“I suppose I had it coming, considering how I acted at Shua-hyung’s lunch but.” Junhui takes a deep breath, hand brushing his hair back. “But me requesting for Hansollie wasn’t to get back at you. I wouldn’t… do that. I just pushed so hard for it because I… told Hansollie I would let him do the shoot. I should’ve said that then.”

“I know,” Minghao replies, chest throbbing. Hansol said it was his idea, said he thought he was helping Minghao somehow. “Sorry I blew up at you for it.”

The corner of Junhui’s lips poke up on the right, leaning his hip against Minghao’s desk. “Why did you?”

“I’m not used to not being the one doing your shoots. I thought—” He takes a breath, unusually heavy as it is against his chest. “I thought you were still angry. And I thought I made you uncomfortable.” 

Junhui’s brow lifts. “Uncomfortable?” 

“Jeonghannie-hyung,” Minghao blurts out. “When he told me about the request, I thought— the last time you switched was….” His voice dissolves into unsure mumblings, suddenly self-conscious of Junhui’s reaction, which is unusually serious, attentively watching him. 

Junhui looks like he’s willing to wait for Minghao to finish his thought, patiently unmoving, silent. When he thinks about it, Junhui was always like that, waiting for Minghao to say something first. 

The reminder strums at a string in his chest, pulling taut and the vibrations make him ache, too many what-ifs flashing through his mind like a tattered film reel. 

“The last time you switched was when you chose me,” Minghao says, finishing his awkward thought. “So I thought you picking Hansol-ah meant you didn’t trust me anymore.”

Junhui tilts his head, eyes squinting slightly as he continues staring.

Minghao thinks it’s strange again, the silence stretching between them, his awkward half-confession half-plea hanging in the air. But Junhui seems to be weighing through different thoughts in his head and Minghao wishes he could still read his mind.

“I wouldn’t blame you if you didn't,” Minghao adds. “I wouldn’t _like it_ but I wouldn’t blame you either.”

Junhui breathes a heavy sigh through his nose, folding his arms across himself. “I didn’t. For a long time,” he answers, causing Minghao’s heart to flinch. 

“That’s fair,” Minghao says quietly.

“But I wouldn’t have let it interfere with work,” Junhui continues, as if Minghao hadn’t spoken. “I still like your work. I’m not artsy but I know I like your style when you… do things.” Minghao has to stop himself from chuckling due to Junhui’s serious tone. “But I promised Hansollie he could do a shoot with me. You know how seriously I take those,” he muses lightly but the message is clear: Minghao broke his promises, Junhui didn't. He held on until he couldn’t anymore. 

“I do.” Minghao clears his throat, brushing some hair behind his ear even though he knows it’ll fling back. But he doesn’t know what else to do with his hands. “I wanted to” —he thinks about the nagging Mingyu in his head— “talk about the shoot.” 

He waits a few seconds for Junhui to respond, finding it odd that he’s just staring at him, unmoving. 

“[Junhui?]” he prompts. 

“Give me a second,” Junhui says, "I'm trying to understand something." 

Minghao holds Junhui’s gaze, ignoring the race his heart is doing. “What is it?” 

Junhui’s eyes flicker over to the flowers on Minghao’s desk before he brings his gaze back. “I’ve seen so many different versions of you, I don’t know which one was real.” 

It’s weird, Minghao thinks, with how many nights he and Junhui spent preparing him for roles that Junhui would think that of Minghao. But Junhui’s looking at him with such strong hurt and vulnerability that Minghao knows he inflicted there. The last string of trust Junhui is willing to hand him. 

There are doubts clouding Junhui’s face, and all too clearly, Minghao can see their relationship hanging over Junhui’s head. Trying to discern what was real, what was pretend. His mind can’t reconcile the Minghao who confessed first and agreed to move in with him to the one who walked away. 

But Minghao doesn’t have any easy answers for him. It was just how their lives happened to play out, the hand that fate dealt them. It was Junhui’s impulsiveness, his foolishness, it was Minghao’s determination, the conviction he still holds in his veins. It was the timing of everything around them. He can’t bring himself to say any of them when they ring too close to his chest. So he decides to give the answer closest to the truth.

“They were all me, they were all real.” 

Junhui's stare is still fixed on him, unmoving and serious. After a few seconds, it starts trembling again, scanning, as his expression drops. “They were all you,” he echoes solemnly, caressing one of the yellow flowers with the backs of his fingers. Minghao doesn’t get to question it when Junhui picks up the bouquet. “I should go put these in some water.” He turns towards the door and Minghao isn’t sure he wants this moment to end, an echo of something familiar washing over him. 

He doesn’t want Junhui to leave. “Um.”

Junhui stops. After a few seconds, he turns his head around to see him. “Yes?”

“About what happened during the shoot….” Minghao doesn’t know where he’s going with this. He just wants to hold onto something, or at least this moment, for a while longer. 

“Ah,” Junhui sighs, eyes flickering away in embarrassment. “Thank you for coming to my rescue, really. I appreciate it.”

Minghao realizes they’ve been talking about almost everything except that. “It’s nothing.” _I would do anything for you._ “It’s just, did you still want to talk about what was bothering you?”

Junhui’s head tilts, hugging the bouquet closer to himself, the crinkling sounds vibrating hard towards Minghao's heart. “Hm, maybe you were right. I'm not really used to you not being the one running my shoots. Good thing you were there.” 

“Oh.” Minghao isn’t sure why he feels disappointed, like he missed something somehow. Junhui’s lying again but Minghao feels he can’t press it like he did before.

“Your concern for me is flattering,” Junhui continues, smiling. Maybe Minghao’s sulking expression was too obvious. “I’m not sure how you could tell though. Hansollie didn’t say anything.”

Minghao lifts his shoulder in a lopsided shrug. “Maybe you’re not that good at lying.”

Junhui frowns. “That’s unfortunate, considering my profession.”

Minghao glances at the bouquet in Junhui’s arms. “You’re a great actor,” he says sincerely. _Just a bad liar._ “You always were.”

“Thank you,” Junhui hums, looking into the flowers again. “We can still be friends, right?”

And there’s the proverbial water bucket being dumped on Minghao’s head. “Friends?” 

“Yeah. If you're okay with that. You were… a really important person to me and an important part of my life. I mean, I thought—” Junhui stops, glancing at the bouquet again. “I don't want to lose that just because I— we messed up years ago.” 

Minghao forces himself to exhale, to breathe. “Oh. Yeah, of course, you too,” he finds himself saying. “Sure, we can be friends. Just… normal friends.” 

Junhui gives a soft smile and nods. He then hesitantly opens his arms as if to ask for a hug to commemorate. 

Minghao stares, forcing himself to smile and he moves forward, ignoring his heart screaming at him at how this is such a bad idea. His brain tells his heart to shut up as he wraps his arms around Junhui’s waist, sighing over his shoulder. 

Minghao can’t give Junhui the answers he wants. He’s hurt him enough already so Minghao tells himself he can do this. It’s the least he could do. It'll be fine like this. No more fighting or avoiding each other or wondering where the other is. They'll stay in each other's lives. It's more than he could have asked for.

“I’m sorry. I know I was really angry before,” Junhui says quietly, almost strained. “I wasted a lot of time like that. But… it’s okay now.” His voice has a light sort of reassurance in it, the same tone that always used to make Minghao feel safe so Minghao believes him.

Then Minghao feels a hand cradle the back of his head and his resolve weakens. Junhui always did this when he hugged him, held him close like he was the most precious thing in the world, like Junhui would protect him. Minghao forgot how much he missed it.

“I missed you.”

It takes a few seconds for Mingaho to register that was not his own voice. “I missed you too,” he replies, trying not to pay attention to the fact that his throat feels a little choked up.

Junhui scoffs, light-hearted. “Even if you didn’t expect to see me again?”

Right, Junhui’s bitter deduction in the elevator when he first came back. Minghao had mostly forgotten.

It was mostly true, but Minghao _had_ been expecting to see Junhui again; on screens, in news and magazine articles, in clips of questionably-hosted interviews that Minghao was never fully able to sit through. Just not in person. 

He can’t say any of this, the words too heavy, caught in his throat, so he nods and squeezes his eyes shut. He hopes Junhui won't notice the droplets on his shirt later. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listen, we're all mad at them...  
> (one day there will be an interaction with them in Jun POV.. one day)  
> side note: chapters 2 and 3 should make more sense now
> 
> next updates will probably be slower because of irl stuff getting busier but I promise I'm still working on this.  
> you can still bug me on [twt ](https://twitter.com/paishhao)and [cc](https://curiouscat.qa/paishhao) to make sure I'm still alive


	12. As pitiful as that makes me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the season 2 premiere  
> this is kind of short because it was supposed to be combined with the next chapter(s?) but this felt like a nice stopping point. and otherwise this would have been a whole 18k arc on its own and that might've been confusing all at once and I didn't like it pacing-wise 
> 
> ty emily for giving me energy and being like half the reason I'm motivated to finish these 
> 
> [Mandarin] - {English}
> 
> Chapter title is from Tree by Buzz.

Hansol smiles as he watches Seungkwan happily receive his iced Americano from the barista and gleefully take a sip. Hansol thinks it’s peculiar how Seungkwan still orders that same iced drink, despite the chilly mid-September air, but Hansol still finds it fascinating nonetheless. 

As promised, he’s meeting Seungkwan for coffee early in the morning to tell him everything he couldn’t before. Even before the entire shoot debacle. Hansol knows it’s a bit weird but keeping secrets from Seungkwan was particularly taxing on him.

After leaving Myungho and Junhwi to talk in the studio room, Hansol actually did go check the vending machine at the lobby, collecting a few snacks and deciding to get Myungho a bottled tea before just resigning to chill on the sofa on his phone. He considered texting Seungkwan, mainly to ask about what schedule he would want from Joshua but he figured Seungkwan was busy managing Mingyu and he could just ask him in person today. 

Hansol did let himself wonder what Myungho and Junhwi would have talked about, if all the weird incidents of awkward longing and dancing Hansol had seen so far had finally led up to something. He figured he shouldn’t try to go back until he saw Junhwi leaving, lest he accidentally interrupt something again. 

He ended up just going home after a while. 

“So,” Seungkwan starts, taking a seat at one of the tables by the window, “what are you thinking about?”

Hansol takes the seat across, sliding his headphones off around his neck. “Huh?”

Seungkwan clicks his tongue. “Wherever your mind went just now, tell me.” 

“My mind went somewhere?”

Seungkwan purses his lips. “Your eyes did this thing,” he says, his own eyes narrowing in suspicion at him a few times.

Hansol chuckles. “Oh. I was thinking about how Jun-hyung kicked me out of my own studio with Myungho-hyung yesterday.”

Seungkwan frowns. “I heard him calling you ‘Hansollie’ a few times,” he grumbles, blatantly ignoring Hansol’s hint.

Hansol scoffs, leaning back in his seat. “Are you jealous?”

Seungkwan straightens his posture with an indignant huff. “No!” He slumps a little bit, glancing out the window. “I wonder what he calls Myungho-hyung.” Or maybe he didn’t ignore it.

Hansol blinks. He never thought of that. So far, he’s just been calling him ‘your boss’ and ‘Myungho’ to Hansol’s face but he wouldn’t put it past Junhwi to have some sort of nickname for Myungho. 

Seungkwan taps at the spot on the table in front of Hansol. “So do you know what’s going on with them? Myungho-hyung and Moon Junhwi-ssi?”

Hansol pauses, looking around.

“You promised you were going to tell me things today.”

Hansol nods, staring at his coffee cup and rotating it in front of him a few times. “They used to date.”

Seungkwan reaches across the table to slap Hansol’s forearm, laughing. “No duh, anyone could see that” —Hansol skeptically raises his brow at him— “ _now._ But I mean, what happened?”

Hansol shrugs. “Like at the shoot?”

Seungkwan shakes his head quickly. “No,” he says, drawing out the ending tone, “but that _was_ something.” He sips at his straw, cheeks hollowing. “I mean, what else do you know? It was serious, right? I’ve never seen Myungho-hyung like that before. Why’d they break up?”

With how Myungho talked about their breakup before, how he warned Hansol about being forced to adapt, Hansol guesses that Junhwi had been the reckless one between them. He thinks Junhwi lamenting that he left because he had no other reason to stay in Seoul after Myungho broke up with him adds to that.

“I don’t know, I wasn’t there,” Hansol replies instead, trying not to chuckle at the knowledge Seungkwan is expecting him to have. He sips at his coffee. “Mingyu-hyung says I pretty much started working for Myungho-hyung after Jun-hyung left.” 

What else does Hansol know, though? Way too much. 

He doesn’t know exactly why they broke up but he knows they both regret it, even if Myungho says he doesn’t. Hansol knows he at least wants to be with Junhwi again. 

He thinks, with the way Junhwi looked at the flowers, the way he showed up at the studio yesterday to speak to Myungho, with what happened between them during the shoot, the way the lost, desperately sad look in Myungho’s eyes finally disappeared, whatever that moment was —that Hansol _completely accidentally_ snapped a picture of— would be able to mend them again.

Seungkwan pouts, putting both elbows on the table and resting his chin in both palms. His eyes glance out the window. “That’s more than I know! Mingyu-hyung won’t tell me anything! I can’t believe Myungho-hyung didn’t tell me he dated a movie star,” he continues, voice shrinking into a small mumble. “I thought I was his favorite.”

“You’re not,” Hansol immediately replies, putting his own cup on the table. He has no idea if that’s true but he’s saying it anyway. He doesn’t want this to end up like Myungho and Junhwi’s… whatever that is, trapped in moments of hesitation and apprehension for far too long. He shoves his hands in his jacket pockets and slumps back in his seat. “You’re _my_ favorite though.”

Seungkwan’s attention whips over at him. “Wait, what?”

Hansol nods rhythmically, staring at Seungkwan’s shoulder before snapping his gaze up at his face. “You’re my favorite. I like you, I think you’re interesting.”

Seungkwan just blinks at him for a few seconds before he slams the table with both hands and leans forward over it, head looking around before he glares him down. “Chwe Vernon Hansol, you tell me right now, are you messing with me?” he asks in harsh rushed whispers.

Hansol can’t help but smile at him. “What? Who told you my middle name? Also, no, I’m not. Why would I be messing with you?”

Seungkwan sits up and picks up his drink, brandishing it so the straw points at him like a weapon. “You better not be messing with me. I thought you liked Kim Mingyu.”

More chuckles of disbelief bubble out of Hansol’s mouth. “Why would I like Mingyu-hyung?”

Seungkwan purses his lips, sputtering his head about. “You were always calling to book him for stuff when Myungho-hyung says they don’t need him. I thought you were just talking to me to get to Mingyu-hyung! Why would you like me?”

Hansol leans a folded arm on the table and rests his chin on it, not taking his eyes off Seungkwan. “You think I wouldn’t just ask Mingyu-hyung directly if I wanted to shoot pictures of him? I just didn’t know how else to talk to you at the time,” he says, still smiling and watching him. “And I like you because, I don’t know, everything you do just seems cutely fascinating to me and I want to spend more time with you.” 

Seungkwan turns away to sip at his straw, still pouting, eyes focused on the bottom of his cup before he starts looking around. After a few moments, he snaps his attention back to Hansol. “Stop looking at me like that, people will see!” he whines in more urgent whispers.

Hansol laughs. “Looking at you like what?”

Seungkwan slams his nearly-empty plastic cup down and gestures towards Hansol up and down with his hand. “Like, like, like _that!_ All honey-eyes and stuff!”

Hansol tilts his head, still watching him. “Does it make you uncomfortable? Do you really want me to stop?”

Seungkwan brings the straw back to his lips and just nibbles on it, lips still in full pout. “Well, I mean, I don’t know.” His eyes start flickering about, like he doesn’t know where to look. His face starts flushing up and Hansol feels his heart swell. “It’s just, people will see.”

“So?” Hansol shrugs, unbothered. “I don’t care, they can see.”

“You have an answer for everything, don’t you?”

Hansol shakes his head. “No, I don’t,” he objects quietly, watching Seungkwan’s intrigued expression as he leans closer, as if Hansol was about to tell him a secret. “I don’t have an answer for whether you’ll go out with me.”

Seungkwan tightens his lips together in his mouth and looks down, leaning back. He sips at his straw again and Hansol hopes he’s just thinking it over. He eyes the empty cup but Seungkwan still nibbles at the straw until he puts the cup down and folds one arm on the table and points the other in Hansol’s face.

“Okay, Chwe Vernon Hansol, I will go out with you. On one condition,” Seungkwan says, trying to sound intimidating, brandishing the pointed finger. Hansol sits upright, trying not to laugh, and nods. “Help me get an autograph from Junhwi-ssi.”

“That’s it?” Hansol quickly asks, to which Seungkwan raises a brow and dips his chin, almost challenging him to ask for something harder, especially when Hansol was supposed to have brought Seungkwan to meet Junhwi yesterday. “{Yeap, nope}, Jun-hyung’s autograph, got it, done.” He wraps his fingers around the hand Seungkwan has pointed in his face and holds it, smiling.

“And it has to be personalized,” Seungkwan adds firmly.

Hansol laughs, nodding as he moves their joined hands up and down. “Yeah, sure, no problem.”

Seungkwan snorts out a laugh, other hand covering his mouth as he looks around the café, embarrassed. Hansol has a small sense of pride in the pink he’s caused Seungkwan’s face to fill up with.

“Hey, so,” Hansol continues, beaming at him, “you should tell me your schedule.”

*****

_This time, when Minghao wakes up, he’s peacefully on his back and not awkwardly draped over Junhui._

_Junhui, however, is already awake, on his side, leaning his cheek against his propped-up fist._

_“[Junhui, have you just been staring at me?]” Minghao asks, voice groggy. He tosses over to face him, folding an arm under his cheek._

_The way Junhui ducks his head into himself and giggles seems adorably out of place for his large frame. “[I can’t help it. You’re really pretty,]” he hums, and Minghao is willing to let it slide for the way Junhui’s eyes are sparkling at him and the warm smile on his lips. “And you said you love me.”_

_Minghao lets out a few giggles. “I did. But you said you love_ me!”

_Junhui flops his head onto the bed. “I know,” he says, drawing circles with his finger on the space on the mattress beside him. “I’m tired, can we just stay in bed today?”_

_Minghao’s eyes widen. “Absolutely not,” he says firmly, sitting up. “You said we were going to the gym today.”_

_Junhui groans, gathering some blanket to throw over himself. “I was hoping you wouldn’t remember.”_

_“You should have thought of that before you spent some of your sleeping time staring at me,” Minghao scoffs, slapping the lump of blanket near Junhui’s shoulder and kicking him under the sheet. Junhui’s resistance is to just trap Minghao’s leg between his. “I let you have your spicy food yesterday so we’re compromising. Get up.”_

_“[HaoHao, I’ve changed my mind. I hate you,]” Junhui pouts._

_Minghao tugs his leg back and stands from the bed, picking up clothes as he walks around to Junhui’s side. “That’s too bad because I still love you, now get up,” he says, tone dully unbothered as he slaps Junhui’s butt, still covered by the blanket. “[You promised me brand deal clothes, Wen Junhui. I’m not letting you slack just because it’s Sunday.]”_

_Junhui groans, kicking his legs about and Minghao can see him grabbing the sides of his head. He flings the blanket off him and sits up, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. “Okay, fine. Let’s go,” he grumbles, taking the clothes from Minghao’s hands._

_Minghao beams. “Love you.”_

_The left side of Junhui’s lips pokes up in a sneer, focused on putting on a sock. “Yeah, yeah, me too.”_

_Minghao just starts giggling, slapping Junhui’s shoulder._

_+++_

_Minghao thinks the gym session goes well. He’d asked Soonyoung for some advice and decided to help Junhui with his upper body for the day, making sure he actually completed the sets. He didn’t want Junhui to think he could get away with things now just because they said they loved each other, so he remained strict and insisted it was because he loved Junhui that he was doing this to him._

_After the gym session, however, Junhui asks a question Minghao had pushed out of his mind._

_“Are you going back to your place?”_

_Minghao stares at him. “Are you saying you don’t want me to come back to your place with you?” He asks it mostly as a joke, complete with pouting bottom lip and wide eyes looking up at him._

_Junhui clicks his tongue. “I don’t mind. I’m just wondering.” He pauses, fiddling with his gym bag strap across his shoulder. “I know you wanted space from your roommate and all. I was just… worried about how that’s going, how you’re doing with that.” His voice trails off into a mumble._

_Minghao steps forward, brushing some hair away from Junhui’s eyes so he can watch them. “I’m doing fine with it. If I wasn’t, I would tell you,” he promises vaguely. “I just need more time.”_

_Junhui’s fingers wrap around his wrist. “As long as you know what you’re doing. I don’t want you to lose your best friend over me.”_

_Minghao frowns. “You’re telling me to go home, aren’t you?”_

_Junhui’s lips quickly press to Minghao’s nose. “I’m not telling you to do anything. You sit in that for as long as you need to, I’m just checking on you.”_

_“He took a shot at you too when he said that.”_

_“Are you mad on my behalf?”_

_Minghao feels his brow furrowing a bit more._

_There’s another press of Junhui’s lips, to Minghao’s lips this time, quick and chaste. “Don’t be,” Junhui says, smiling. “I’m sort of used to being judged by my face before someone properly knows me. Comes with the territory.” He shrugs, but it’s more casual and reassuring than anything else._

_“You’re really not bothered by it?” Minghao asks, a bit hesitant._

_Junhui puts his hand on Minghao’s shoulders. “You know him better than I do. Do you really think he meant what he said? Even if I wasn’t involved, would he really think you’d sleep your way into a job?”_

_As he places a delicate kiss on the inside of Minghao’s wrist, Junhui also brings up the fact that Minghao doesn’t have any clothes at Junhui’s place and although Junhui has no problems lending him some, he can’t live like that forever. Also Junhui needs to do his laundry. Especially the bedsheets. He calls it revenge for Minghao not letting Junhui laze in bed with him._

_So Minghao goes home._

_He doesn’t spot Mingyu, which is unusual since Minghao had gotten accustomed to seeing him either in the kitchen or the living area. He calls out that he’s home and beelines towards his room, picks out some fresh clothes —finding the shirt he took from Junhui from when they first slept together— and goes to take a shower, announcing this too._

_When he steps out of the washroom from his shower, robe in place and towel around his neck, Minghao runs into Mingyu coming out of his room. They both pause, staring at each other. Minghao doesn’t know what to do besides shake the towel through his hair a bit._

_“Hi,” he offers._

_“Hi,” Mingyu replies, scratching the back of his head. His eyes scan Minghao’s face for a few seconds, reading, gauging. His expression relaxes, matching his voice when he sincerely says, “You seem really happy.”_

_Minghao’s hand pauses. “Oh. I uh, yeah,” he says, sighing a bit. He thinks about the past few days, the events leading up to his confession to Junhui, unable to stop the smile stretching face. “I am.”_

_There’s a calm sort of smile that crosses Mingyu’s lips, and Minghao can see the warmth hitting his eyes. “That’s good. It’s nice.”_

_Minghao doesn’t know what to say. He settles for a, “Thanks,” slightly awkward as it is. He doesn’t know how else to fill the air, almost tempted to utter out another apology for one reason or another. Whether it’s for the portfolio again, for spending so much time with Junhui, for hiding the relationship, Minghao doesn’t know. Instead he says, “Well, uh, I should get going. I just came back to shower.”_

_“You’re leaving again?” Mingyu asks, voice slightly soft._

_“Uh.” Minghao isn’t sure what he expected to happen. “Are you okay with me staying?”_

_Mingyu’s eyes dance around, from down the hall to the kitchen, to his own room, to Minghao standing in front of the washroom. “I wouldn’t be opposed to it,” he says, ducking his head a little. “You live here too, after all.”_

_Minghao had spent so much time at Junhui’s, both to spend time with him and to maintain distance with Mingyu, that maybe part of him forgot he doesn’t actually live at Junhui’s apartment. “Right.”_

_“Okay,” Mingyu huffs out uneasily, hand rubbing at the back of his neck. “I was going to make ramen. Did you uh, did you want some?”_

_“Yeah, sure, that’d be nice,” Minghao finds himself saying through a few staggered nods. He turns around to get his clothes out of the washroom, finding that Mingyu’s already disappeared into the kitchen by the time he turns around._

_Once Minghao tosses his clothes in the laundry, he goes back to the kitchen to watch Mingyu chopping up vegetables._

_“Just so you know,” Minghao starts carefully, “I’m not still mad at you.”_

_Mingyu finishes dicing his green onions and looks up. He doesn’t say anything, seemingly content to wait._

_“We’re still friends,” Minghao continues. “I just still need some time to adjust. Things are really different now.”_

_Mingyu’s head starts bobbing as he scoops the green onion into a small bowl. “Yeah, I know.”_

_Minghao takes a deep breath. “I told Jun-hyung I love him.” He doesn’t know why he’s saying this. Maybe he still has a clawing need to keep Mingyu involved in his life. He knows his heart was serious about not leaving Mingyu behind._

_Mingyu moves so he’s facing the ramen pot, back almost fully to Minghao. He lifts the lid as if to check on the boiling water, poking at the ramen with a ladle. “That’s a big step.”_

_“Yeah.” Minghao exhales awkwardly._

_“You really mean it though.” Mingyu doesn’t bother looking at him, nor bother phrasing it as a question and Minghao isn’t sure how he’s expecting him to answer._

_“I do.”_

_There’s a pause as Mingyu places the lid back on the pot and wipes his hands on a towel, slowly turning back to face Minghao. “You’re not going to get hurt?”_

_Minghao isn’t naive. “I probably will,” he admits, “but not in the way you’re thinking.”_

_Minghao isn’t someone who thinks that he’ll never get hurt just because he’s in a relationship, much less one with Junhui. He knows one day, Junhui is bound to say something stupid that Minghao won’t agree with, or they’ll argue over small things that maybe matter to Minghao that Junhui doesn’t understand, or one of them will have unreasonable work hours and the other will feel neglected. They were still two different people after all. There was no way either of them would not get hurt in some way at some point. It was inevitable._

_But Minghao thinks, despite all of that, they’ll still work it out somehow because Junhui will still be worth it at the end._

*****

Junhui hears his passcode being punched in and his door being opened as he’s finishing up in the kitchen, drying his hands on a spare towel. After a few seconds of shuffling, he hears Jisoo pad his way over to him.

Jisoo looks at the bouquet of flowers in Junhui’s makeshift cat vase he made at the pottery class years back. “Myungho really did want you to have the flowers then, huh?” he asks, nodding towards it with a calm smile. 

“Oh? Sorta,” Junhui admits, clearing his throat. “More like he _let_ me have them.”

“ _Let_ you have them?” Jisoo repeats, sounding dubious. “So Hansol was wrong?”

Junhui hums, heading off to his room to gather his stuff. “I’m kind of confused too. I tried to give them back just in case, but he just said I should keep them. I thought it was weird because when we were going out before, we’d pretty much sworn off giving each other actual flowers. He didn’t like it since he said he preferred gifts that wouldn’t die.”

Jisoo frowns as Junhui comes out of his room, holding his bag. “And that’s changed now?”

Junhui blinks. “Well, we’re not going out now so I guess it’d have to? It’s not really a gift anyway, he just let me have them.”

“You’re not going out now?” Jisoo asks, brows furrowed. “After what happened during the shoot, I would’ve thought…. ”

“Oh! Well,” Junhui says, hugging his bag to his chest, “it’s nice to know that he cares about me, really. It’s more than I thought I’d be able to get, after everything. But I don’t think he has feelings for me anymore.”

The way Jisoo is looking at him right now seems way too worried and it tugs at Junhui’s heart. “Why not?”

“When I spoke to Mingyu-ssi, there was something about how he talked about Myungho that I recognized,” Junhui admits, skin tingling at the recollection. “Remember how you used to say it was really easy to see I was in love with Myungho when I was with him?”

“Yes?” Jisoo answers, tone floundering into bewilderment. 

“I guess I understand now because that’s what it was like when I spoke to Mingyu-ssi before my shoot.”

Jisoo sighs, turning his head away. “And that’s what threw you off? That’s what made Myungho think something was wrong during the shoot?” 

“I was going to ask Mingyu-ssi about it after we wrapped but then Hansollie” —Junhui glances at the bouquet again— “And then Myungho….” 

_“Do you know I’m in love with you?”_

_“[And if we can survive that, we can survive anything, Wen Junhui. I promise.]”_

_“[I said yes, I will move in with you, Wen Junhui.]”_

_“Not this time, hyung. We have to break up. It’s just, it’s what’s best.”_

_“I can’t be with you, Moon Junhwi. I can’t do this. We have to break up.”_

_“Goodbye, Junhwi-ssi.”_

_“[Junhui, I never regretted it. Not once.]”_

_“They were all me. They were all real.”_

Junhui takes a breath. “I don’t really have a right to interfere in his life like that now, since I was gone for three years, right?” He quickly turns to Jisoo. “You’re not going to tell Wonwoo, are you? He might’ve had a little crush on Mingyu-ssi at the shoot.”

Jisoo’s face scrunches up, head tilting. “Why is that what you’re worried about?” He shakes his head quickly. “Fine, I won’t tell Wonwoo. But are you really okay?”

Junhui shrugs, shaking his head. “I have to be.” Because it’s more than Junhui could have asked for. He’ll hold on to what he can. Junhui’s always been like that when it came to Minghao, he supposes. _Selfish._ “At least I know for sure he doesn’t completely want to throw me out of his life this time. We’re friends now. It’s okay.”

Jisoo sighs again, stepping closer. “What you told me you said to Myungho when you guys broke up,” he leads slowly, carefully weighing his words. Junhui swallows down the saliva in his throat. “Do you still believe that?” 

Junhui’s heart picks up and he blinks a couple of times, unable to directly look at Jisoo’s eyes. “We should get going,” he almost whispers, pushing past him to go put on his shoes. 

Jisoo silently follows and doesn’t press it further on the drive to the building, likely sensing he’s hit a sensitive area. 

Junhui had been naive back then, convinced that Xu Minghao was _it_ for him in his life. And Jisoo knew that. He knew when Junhui hadn’t even told Wonwoo. He watched Junhui throughout his entire relationship with Minghao so of course he’d still ask these things now. 

Junhui doesn’t want Jisoo to think Junhui’s actually mad at him so he asks for Jisoo’s phone to look at his own schedule while trying to tell a lame joke about ducks and sing obnoxiously to the song that comes up on the radio. 

Jisoo doesn’t respond to them beside occasional chuckles that Junhui knows are half-assed. 

While he’s driving, Junhui pats Jisoo’s leg. “I know you’re just worried. Thank you.”

+++

Minghao comes into work a little bit early, slumping in at his desk. It’s a bit awkward to be there, considering what went down yesterday. He stares at the spot Junhui had placed the flowers at that time, its existence somehow sealing his fate.

In the entire time he’s known Junhui, Minghao doesn’t think he’s ever really been _friends_ with him, at least in the traditional sense.

Sure, there was that month or so before they were officially dating, but was that really them being friends? Minghao is convinced they were somewhat flirting since they met, that connection that Junhui used to talk about always surrounding them, that Minghao was eventually going to fall for him no matter what. 

When Junhui suggested they be friends, Minghao had just taken it without much thought. He just saw the chance to stay close to Junhui, an offer, a hidden guarantee they’ll see each other another day, and he was selfish. He took it, desperate for _something_ after everything that’s happened between them. 

He tells himself it’s enough. Because he wants to believe Junhui was forgiving him, in some twisted sense, that the hurt in their past was behind them. 

He hears his phone buzz from his pocket and sees a text from Mingyu. _‘How did it go?’_

_‘It was fine. Junhwi and I are friends.’_

It takes a few minutes before Mingyu responds. In a flurry of separate texts. 

_‘What the fuck.’ ‘I thought you were going to talk to him?’ ‘What about what happened at the shoot? I thought you guys were going to make out and now you’re telling me you’re friends????’ ‘What the fuck happened.’ ‘Are you telling me that you and I are now the same in Moon Junhwi’s eyes?’ ‘Fucking hell.’_

Minghao frowns. _‘You’re unusually invested in this.’_

_‘Excuse me? Who took care of your drunk ass after you broke up with Junhwi and whatever that post-breakup episode was that you had for months??’_

_‘Fair enough.’_ Minghao replies, leaning back in his chair. _‘You’re right. I’m sorry.’_

_‘Don’t try to distract me. Why the fuck are you friends with Junhwi?’_

_‘He wanted to be friends.’_

Mingyu takes a few more seconds to reply _‘Did you tell him you still wanted to be with him?’_

_‘I couldn’t.’_

_‘Why the fuck not?’_

Minghao frowns at his phone, thumbs moving in anxious circles, hovering above the screen. He doesn’t know how to describe it to Mingyu, the distance he felt Junhui was putting between them while trying to draw him closer in the same breath. 

_‘The timing wasn’t right.’_

Mingyu is surprisingly quiet and Minghao thinks the conversation’s over until his phone rings.

“Hel—?” 

_“What do you mean, the timing wasn’t right? You guys were like two steps away from kissing in front of everyone during a shoot,”_ Mingyu’s voice comes through the line, bitingly impatient. _“How did you go from that to deciding to be friends?”_

“Hello to you too,” Minghao replies. “We were _not_ two steps away from kissing.” 

Mingyu scoffs over the line. _“Kwannie’s death grip on my arm said otherwise. I would’ve thought he was watching one of Junhwi’s dramas. Besides, I know that dumb look in your eye when Junhwi’s involved. Don’t act like I haven’t seen it when you were together. Anyway, stop dodging my questions, why are you guys friends?”_

“He suggested it and I couldn’t say no to him. It’s what’s best anyway.” 

_“If you keep saying that, I’m going to strangle you.”_ Mingyu sighs. _“I thought you were going to tell him you were still head over ass in love with him. You even said you can’t say no to him, what the fuck is that?”_

Minghao makes a face at Mingyu’s wording. “It’s not that easy. Besides, we’re fine like this, it’s okay.” 

Mingyu groans. _“It is_ not _okay. Ugh, Kwannie just pulled the car up, I have to go. But do not call me again until you’ve specifically told Moon Junhwi the words ‘I’m still in love with you, please go out with me again.’”_

“You called _me,_ ” Minghao says, relieved that Mingyu can’t see his face at the moment. 

_“I don’t care,”_ Mingyu exclaims, tired. _“Just do it.”_ And he quickly hangs up. 

Minghao frowns at his phone again, only looking up when he hears the studio door open and Hansol’s familiar sigh as he sits down in his chair. Next thing he knows, Hansol’s wheeled his chair over beside Minghao.

“Hyung, do you mind if I use one of the pictures from the Jun-hyung folder you have on the server?” he asks next to Minghao’s shoulder. 

Minghao leans away. “Huh? What do you need Jun-hyung's pictures for?”

Hansol’s eyes light up for a second. “Ah, I wanna pick out one for him to sign, like an autograph. It’s for a date.” 

“For a date,” Minghao repeats slowly, eyes narrowing in disbelief and trying to ignore the stabbing feeling in his chest. 

He’s an idiot.

He should have noticed earlier. 

The distance Junhui was putting between them when they spoke, Hansol’s questions lately. Minghao glances at the spot on the desk where Junhui’s flowers used to be. His head hurts.

Hansol holds his gaze and nods firmly. “For a date.”

“You need Jun-hyung’s autograph for a date.”

“Yes,” Hansol sighs. “Am I being unclear somewhere here?”

Minghao makes a strained noise in his throat and shakes his head quickly to cover it. “So you need Jun-hyung’s picture for an autograph for a date,” he repeats again for clarity, to which Hansol quickly nods. “It's just, why are you asking _me?_ ”

“I mean, they’re your pictures and some of them look kinda personal, so I wanted to ask if it was okay first?” Hansol asks casually, shrugging. 

“What do you mean by personal?”

“Do you really want me to answer that?”

Minghao licks his lips, thinking for a few seconds before he nods. Might as well.

Hansol tosses his head side to side. “It’s pretty easy to tell that you were totally in love with him when you took them.”

“Oh.” 

“Mm-hm.” Hansol wheels away, back towards his own desk. He’s taken out his phone, holding it over his chest and typing away. “So is it okay?”

 _No, not okay._ Minghao’s heart starts screaming. But he knows he has to shut it down, he doesn’t have the right to think or say those things anymore. It’s fine. They’re friends now. Junhui has the right to be asked out and sign autographs and go on dates with people who want his autographs and _whatever,_ it isn’t Minghao’s business anymore. _It’s fine._

“Yeah, go ahead.” 

“Cool, thanks,” Hansol replies, putting his phone down and turning back to his computer. 

When Minghao angles his chair to take a peek at Hansol’s screen, he sees the younger slowly scrolling through the folders of Junhui’s photos. Minghao swallows the bitter taste in his mouth and quickly puts his attention back on his own computer screen. 

He looks at his calendar and notices that he’s been booked for two new shoots, one scheduled for next week and another at the end of the month. They’re both booked under Junhui’s name.

*****

_Minghao hadn’t thought he would be able to do it so soon but Junhui does arrange the video call with his mother and brother the week after their date._

_It takes place on the weekend, in Junhui’s living area. Junhui’s phone is propped up on a stand on the coffee table while they sit on the couch, pretending they’re not completely awkward._

_Minghao keeps his promise and does not make it known that he’s seen Junhui naked, even if he’s pretty sure Junhui’s mother can already tell Minghao’s done with her son more than that._

_But Junhui’s brother, despite being thirteen, seems to have such a starry-eyed admiration for him that even if Minghao wanted to mess with Junhui, he still wouldn’t do anything to shatter his brother’s image of him._

_Minghao just says that he and Junhui go on dates a lot and doesn’t say much else. He makes faces at him in the corner of the screen while Junhui’s mother goes on a mild tirade to Junhui about hiding Minghao from her for almost four months. While she’s relieved that it means he’s hiding his relationship well from the public, she’s especially shocked when Junhui reveals that he’s trying acting again and, once again, credits it to Minghao, no matter how misplaced Minghao thinks it is._

“[He told you to try acting again and you did it?]” _she asks, glancing between the pair._

_That’s not exactly what happened and Minghao is about to correct her but Junhui beats him to it. “[Sort of? He told me he watched my old stuff and said it’d be a shame to let it go to waste. I like doing it though, it’s not like he forced me.]”_

_She looks between them again, humming in thought as she picks up Junhui’s brother to sit in her lap and focuses her attention towards Minghao._ “[You think you can get him to start eating better too?]”

_Junhui makes a face and Minghao pushes him aside to center himself in the frame, laughing. “[Trust me, auntie, I’ve been trying.]”_

_Junhui’s jaw drops at Minghao’s betrayal. Junhui’s mother beams, telling Junhui to “hold onto this one” while Junhui’s brother makes awed noises, presumably at his older brother being embarrassed._

_After they wrap up the call, Junhui slumps back on the sofa, puffing out a breath._

_“[That went well, right?]” Minghao asks, grinning._

_Junhui sighs dramatically, covering his eyes with his hand. “[Yeah. I’m pretty sure they like you better than they like me. My mom was about ready to adopt you.]”_

_Minghao feels his ears tingling up and getting warm at the implications. “[I’m glad she likes me. I was actually really worried.]”_

_“[After you sold me out to her?]” Junhui gapes._

_“Yes,” Minghao says firmly, kissing Junhui on the cheek before he gets up and goes over to his bag, pulling out his laptop. “I’d like your mother’s approval, after all.”_

_“What’s that?”_

_Minghao sits back beside Junhui, opening it and loading up his programs, not minding when Junhui peers over his shoulder. “Remember on our first date when you asked to see my shots that didn’t make it into my portfolio? And all the other stuff I work on? You called it artsy.”_

_“I call everything you do artsy,” Junhui mumbles, leaning his head on Minghao’s shoulder._

_“Is that a problem?” Minghao huffs._

_Junhui shakes his head. “It’s nice. I can’t do it but I know it’s pretty. You’re really good at making stuff pretty.”_

_“Even you?”_

_“Especially me,” Junhui replies, voice sounding drowsy._

_“Hm, I thought you were going to say you’re always pretty and you don’t need my help.”_

_Junhui lets out a dramatic sigh. “I am always pretty but you make me better.”_

_Minghao lets this sink in for a few seconds, wondering if Junhui knows what he’s saying. “You really believe that, don’t you?” He looks down on the lump of hair on his shoulder that is Junhui’s head, waiting for him to respond. “What about the makeup staff?”_

_Junhui remains quiet, the silence ticking away at Minghao’s nerves. “They help but you know what I mean.”_

_So Junhui did know what he was saying. Minghao wonders if Junhui can hear his heart speeding up from there. “Does that mean you’ll let me style you one day?”_

_“If you want,” Junhui replies, tone mellow, “just let me know when. You can also help pick between my offers and tell me which brand is better.”_

_“You actually got offers for clothing brands already?” Minghao asks, scrolling through his folders, looking between his rejected portfolio folder and his artwork folder._

_Junhui shifts himself closer into Minghao. “Mm-hm, I’ll show you them later. First folders. I still wanna see.”_

_Minghao clicks on his artwork folder, mostly because they feel closer to his heart. Showing them to Junhui is slightly nerve-wracking, somewhat intimidating and he doesn’t feel as exposed as he usually would. He knows Junhui wouldn’t judge him for anything in it, would probably be in awe at it. Sometimes he can’t tell if Junhui is genuinely impressed or is only reacting like he is to appease Minghao._

_“You’d tell me if there was something you saw that you didn’t actually like, right? You’re not just going to pretend to be impressed just because it’s me?”_

_Junhui chuckles. “I’m always impressed by you but okay, I’ll be harsher then.”_

_Minghao sighs. “Have you gotten more bold with your lines since I said I love you?”_

_Junhui snorts. “Only if they’re working.” There’s a pause as Junhui lifts his head to look directly at Minghao’s face. “You don’t regret it, do you? Saying you love me?”_

_“I don’t,” Minghao says firmly. “I know what I was saying and I meant it. Do you regret saying it back?”_

_Junhui shakes his head. “I’d wanted to tell you before, when you came to set and I was filming.” He looks away, drawing his lips in his mouth. There’s a flicker of something that makes Minghao think Junhui’s feeling particularly vulnerable, but in a way that doesn’t seem to bother him. “But you already knew that, didn’t you?” he asks softly._

_“Yeah, I did,” Minghao says just as quietly. He knew. Junhui just wasn’t ready to say it then._

_“Thank you,” he says in a strained way that makes Minghao think Junhui’s about to cry, “for waiting for me.”_

_Minghao giggles, brushing Junhui’s tears away with his thumb again because he understands what he means, even if he doesn’t fully say everything in his sentences anymore. “I’ll always try to wait for you,” he says as another vague blanket promise._

_Junhui’s gotten a lot more comfortable crying in front of Minghao now and Minghao’s okay with it., having gotten used to hugging him through it._

_Sometimes he talks about his frustrations with being passed for roles or his worries about messing up his Korean pronunciations again. But he also talks about how supportive the senior actors are, how he likes being able to still do modeling deals on the side when he never had that option before._

_This time, Junhui admits, through tears and embarrassed giggles, that he’d been worried about accidentally driving Minghao away, that if he confessed first, he’d be too forward for him. That Minghao would get weirded out and leave._

_“You think I could reject you when you’re so cute?” Minghao asks, grinning far too wide at being able to recycle Junhui’s line from their first date._

_Realization slowly dawns on Junhui’s face and he shoves Minghao’s shoulder again. “Shut up! I can’t believe you’d bring that up!” He covers his face with his hands again._

_Minghao sighs at having to peel Junhui’s hands from his face yet again. “I’m serious though. I wouldn’t have minded.”_

_“But I would have,” Junhui mumbles. He doesn’t say anything more, just buries his face in the crook of Minghao’s neck again and somehow Minghao gathers what he means._

_He was terrified of Minghao not saying he loved him back, unable to deal with that limbo until Minghao did say it and Junhui didn’t want to pressure him._

_Minghao just pats the back of Junhui’s head, threading his fingers through the short hairs there. “Then I guess I’ll keep waiting for you.”_

*****

Wonwoo is a bit surprised when he finds that Mingyu sent the email with his video attached almost right when he gets home from the shoot. 

Although Wonwoo had immediately fallen asleep once he got home, he found the email once he got up in the early afternoon. He chuckles at the extremely formal language Mingyu sent it with and opens the video file. 

It’s a small vlog-style video, with handheld shots of city B-roll underlaid a rock track and occasional interview-like shots of Mingyu sitting in a room talking about his thoughts on what he just did. Wonwoo guesses they were shot by his manager and it’s mostly Mingyu going to different shooting locations before he does his ads. There are some clips of Mingyu in the makeup chair while his manager interrogates him along with B-roll clips of Mingyu doing the things he’s talking about. Overall, it’s nice but there are some changes Wonwoo would make.

Wonwoo doesn’t want to be pushy to someone he just met but Mingyu _did_ say he wanted advice or tips. So Wonwoo tries a gentler approach and links him to videos of techniques he thinks Mingyu would benefit from. One called ‘How to do a J-cut’ and another on color grading with the message, _‘It’s good. If you want to tweak some stuff, I recommend you look at these.’_

Mingyu’s reply is fast. _‘I didn’t know you’d just link me videos. Haha. I thought you’d show me.’_

Wonwoo purses his lips, quickly typing out, _‘How was I going to show you? Unless you come watch me edit or something.’_

_‘Is that an invitation?’_

Wonwoo blinks at the email. He hadn’t _intended_ for it to be an invitation but he supposes he wouldn’t be opposed if Mingyu did want to do that.

Mingyu quickly sends a follow-up email. _‘I’m kidding. I’ll watch the videos, thanks!’_

Wonwoo nods, humming to himself and goes back to his regular work. He pretends there wasn’t a twang of disappointment strumming in his chest when he replies with, _‘No problem. Let me know if there’s anything else you want me to look at.’_

+++

The shoots after the joint one between Mingyu and Junhui go back to their regular affairs; actors and models for various promotional shoots. 

After how he handled that shoot, however, Seungcheol asks if Minghao would be comfortable giving Hansol more responsibilities. Minghao agrees; he thinks it’s only fair, after all. So he lets Hansol run some shoots on his own while Minghao works on his own projects in the studio and vice versa. He thinks Hansol doesn’t need to shadow him as much anymore and tells Hansol he can always text Minghao to come down if he needs help.

However, Hansol still does rely on Minghao for the styling notes since Hansol insists that Minghao has a better eye for it and that Hansol generally just goes along with whatever the styling department gives them. 

Minghao notices that Hansol doesn’t ask for his opinion on how he edited the photos between MIngyu and Junhui, and also notes that, while the files for it are on the server, the one Hansol “accidentally took” while Minghao was talking to Junhui is mysteriously missing. 

“It’s not part of the shoot, hyung,” Hansol had answered too easily, leaning back in his chair with his hands behind his head. “Do you need it for something?”

“N-no, of course not. I was just wondering.” 

Minghao still isn’t fully sure Hansol believed him. Even when Hansol finally prints out his picture of Junhui, almost a week after he had initially asked about it. Minghao catches him rummaging the cups on their desks for a permanent marker. 

“You’re gonna ask Jun-hyung to sign that now for your date?” Minghao cautiously asks, handing him a silver marker from the depths of his drawer.

“Mm-hm,” Hansol hums, happily accepting it. “He said he has a shoot with you today so if I hurry, I can catch him before you start.”

Minghao pauses, eyes slowly drifting back to his computer screen. 

Hansol chuckles. “You forgot, didn’t you?” 

Minghao clears his throat, going over to the cabinet in the back for his equipment.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell him,” Hansol says, gathering his picture of Junhui and his marker and leaving the room.

+++

Junhui wanders around the set room, taking long strides and looking around. Hansol had emailed him about coming to his shoot early because he had a favor to ask him. Although Junhui did find it curious that it was during his shoot with Minghao while Minghao himself was nowhere to be seen.

“Jun-hyung!” Hansol calls, jogging over to him with a large print and a marker. “Remember the last favor you said I could ask for?”

Junhui giggles. “I thought you told Shua-hyung we were doing dinner with your friend?”

“We are but.” Hansol holds out his print for Junhui to see and brandishes the marker. “He said he also wants an autograph. Personalized.”

Junhui looks at him dryly. “How is it supposed to be personalized if I don’t know who he is?”

Hansol blanks. “Uh, his name is Boo Seungkwan.”

Junhui looks around the room, paranoid because of the tale Mingyu instilled in him. “Is that Kim Mingyu’s manager?” he asks when nothing seems to happen. Seungkwan wasn’t summoned like Mingyu told him. Junhui doesn’t know if he’s disappointed at not being able to witness this phenomenon that Mingyu seems to believe in.

Hansol nods. 

“I didn’t know you knew each other,” Junhui muses. 

Hansol frowns. “You already met him?”

Junhui nods. “We met at the first shoot I had with Mingyu when he gave me his business card.”

Hansol’s posture slackens, slightly thrown off and Junhui tilts his head. Hansol’s frown turns into a pout, lips pursing. “I… Can I still ask for the autograph with the dinner?” he asks hesitantly. 

Junhui is perfectly willing to do it, but he feels like messing with Hansol a little bit right now. “Hm, _another_ request? After I already held up my end of the deal? You’re already getting a dinner, kid. Aren’t you kind of pushing it?” 

Hansol looks down at the picture in his hand, disappointed. “It’s just… Seungkwan said he’d go on a date with me if I got him a personalized autograph from you.”

An odd sense of fondness and warmth hits Junhui as he watches Hansol’s dilemma. “So that’s why you asked for your request to be for him instead of you. You really like him, huh?”

Hansol nods, not looking away from the print. “Yeah, I just— I don’t know. Even if we haven’t talked that much, I feel like there’s something there and I like him a lot. He just seems so fascinating and cute and I—” He looks at Junhui’s face, as if suddenly realizing he’s gone on a ramble. “Sorry, hyung.” 

Junhui just shakes his head, softly chuckling. He finally realizes who Hansol reminds him of. He’s not sure why he didn’t figure it out before. “Oh my god,” he mutters, “you’re me with Myungho’s job.”

“Huh?”

Junhui shakes his head again, not able to get rid of the smile. “Nothing, gimme.” He gestures for the marker and the print, turning Hansol around so he can use his back as a surface as he signs away. He’s a bit thrown off by the image Hansol’s picked out. It’s a photo of himself from years ago, at one of the clothing brand photoshoots Minghao encouraged Junhui to take when he was having trouble deciding between two. Minghao had picked Versace because of course he did.

Junhui recaps the marker and passes both back to Hansol. “Where did you get that picture anyway?”

“Myungho-hyung’s folders. He has a bunch of them of you on the server,” Hansol replies distractedly, too focused on reading Junhui’s message. “‘Hi Seungkwan-ah! Thanks for watching! Hope we have a good dinner. I’ll definitely use your business card more often. Make sure you take good care of Hansollie. Moon Junhwi.’ Thanks, hyung.” Hansol says with sparkling eyes.

“Don’t smear it,” Junhui warns jokingly, waiting until Hansol has put the print in one hand and wraps him in a hug. “Good luck with him.”

Hansol says another, “Thanks, hyung,” and cheerfully runs off, presumably back to the studio office to store it until he has to go home. 

As Junhui watches Hansol run off, he spots Minghao near the doorway staring at him. He sends him a smile with a big wave. 

Minghao seems surprised at having been noticed and slowly makes his way over. 

“Do you lurk in doorways now? You’re late.”

Minghao shakes his head. “I just passed by a very excited Hansol and wondered what could have caused that.”

Junhui grins. “He wanted my autograph for a date and I gave it to him. It was pretty adorable.”

“Oh.” 

Junhui blinks at Minghao’s downwards tone. “Why? Is Hansollie not that excited normally?”

“No,” Minghao replies, frowning with pursed lips. “He’s usually very calm and controlled. Low-energy.”

“Ah,” Junhui choruses. “Is that why you hired him?”

Minghao shrugs, a small smile poking at his cheeks. “Not the only reason, but it helps.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll get him to my energy level soon.”

Minghao hums. “Please don’t. I don’t need him bouncing all around and making me exhausted trying to keep up with him.”

“You never complained before.” Junhui smirks and pushes on Minghao’s shoulder. “And don’t lie, you know I can be low energy too.”

Minghao is quiet for a while, his smile slowly fading off as he fidgets with his earring, faraway look in his eye. 

“[Minghao?]” Junhui asks gently, trying to draw his attention back. 

“Oh, uh, yeah I do,” Minghao replies in a rush, shaking himself out of it. “Of course I do.”

“That was a while ago, huh,” Junhui says, not even as a question since it comes out too stiff. He takes a breath through his teeth. “You didn’t come for an autograph too, did you?” he teases, hoping it will remedy whatever atmosphere this is. 

“Hm, no, I didn’t,” Minghao replies, tone just as coy. “But if you’re offering them, I won’t say no.”

Junhui pouts dramatically. “Ah, you should have brought your own print, though. That’s what Hansollie did.” Junhui thinks he sees Minghao’s expression drop. 

“Right. Hansollie.”

Junhui quirks his head at him, curious. “He said he got his from this folder you have on the server.”

Minghao bites his lip. “Oh. Yeah, he mentioned that.”

“He said you have a bunch of them of me,” Junhui continues slowly, his heart quickening. 

“I guess I do,” Minghao breathes out, somewhat shaky.

Junhui scratches the side of his nose. “I thought you would’ve gotten rid of those.”

Minghao shakes his head and doesn’t say anything. Junhui was expecting an excuse about how it’s technically work so he can’t get rid of them but Minghao doesn’t even bother. 

“Do you have folders for everyone or am I special?” Junhui continues teasing, undeterred by Minghao’s lack of responses. 

Minghao brushes some of his hair behind his ear, clearing his throat. “I um, uh,” he stammers, blinking quickly. “You’re special. You always were.” He says the last part quietly and Junhui isn’t sure what to do.

“Because I’m so pretty?” Junhui offers again, hands going behind his back and smiling. 

Although Minghao tightens his lips in his mouth, a laugh spurts through them and he starts giggling. “Yeah. Your face is very easy to work with. It’d be a shame to get rid of those pictures.” Junhui is about to say an awkward thanks but there’s a look on Minghao’s face like he wants to keep talking. “Thank you, though, for booking me again,” he says, brushing some hair behind his ear, and Junhui can’t recall the last time he saw Minghao so shy. “It means a lot.”

Junhui thinks his heart is going to give out. He wants to stumble out a flustered _“well, we’re friends, right?”_ but he feels his heart reaching out, trying to say something else. He pushes forward on his toes. “About what I said before, how I didn’t trust you for a long time,” he breathes out. “That was kind of….”

Minghao’s eyes swell a bit, looking up at him. “Hm?” 

“I didn’t mean for it to sound like I still didn’t trust you. I do, now. I mean, I have for a while. I wouldn’t have asked you to edit my pictures when I got back if I didn’t,” Junhui says in one breath, hoping he comes off as controlled as all his acting training prepared him for. “I wanted to ask if you’d still edit my pictures in the upcoming shoots.” 

Sparkles light up Minghao’s eyes in a way Junhui has only seen a few times, usually whenever he paints something he’s particularly proud of. “Yeah. I will.”

Junhui knows Jisoo’s worry wasn’t unfounded before. Junhui knows he’s still playing a dangerous game, asking for the things he used to, trying to stay by Minghao’s side like this. He can’t believe in the things he used to anymore but he thinks, even if he’s flying dangerously close to the sun right now, in complete defiance of time and history and reason and logic and everything else in Junhui's veins, Xu Minghao is still worth it to him.

Junhui can do this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry my last A/N was a lie.  
> the next one will be longer, I swear  
> clown me:  
> [twt ](https://twitter.com/paishhao)and [cc](https://curiouscat.qa/paishhao)


	13. I don't need any words, it's just you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was supposed to be two chapters but I didn't want to drag this part of the story out for much longer and I was informed on the twitters that it'd be preferred as a giant chunk. so last chapter was the breather/break ;3; this is about 20k so get comfy  
> as always, thank you guys for the comments/kudos/ccs, it really is greatly appreciated and helps a lot!! (and ty emily for not letting me die during this ♡)
> 
> [Mandarin] - {English}
> 
> Chapter title is from It's You by Super Junior.

It’s been over three years since the last time Junhui had done a shoot with Minghao alone Junhui didn’t think it would happen again, and he’s not sure if he’s happy or anxious. 

“Is Hansollie not coming back?” Junhui asks, mainly out of curiosity as he tentatively approaches Minghao while he’s setting up. Hansol had run off after getting his autograph and Junhui would have assumed he’d return at some point to continue assisting Minghao.

Minghao’s hands freeze for a second before he continues with his tasks, not looking up. “Nope,” he says, sounding slightly stiff. “Seungcheollie-hyung thought he did so well with your shoot with Mingyu that he doesn’t have to shadow me so much anymore. We upped his responsibilities, he can run his own shoots now too.”

“Ah, I didn’t know that,” Junhui muses, wandering back to his spot. 

The shoot with Minghao goes well, if anyone were to ask Junhui. 

He thinks it’s easier for him to understand Minghao’s directions than it is Hansol’s, that Minghao will grunt a little and gesture with his eyes and Junhui feels like he knows that means _‘stand over there at a thirty-eight degree angle from the camera and turn with a haughty indifference’._ He wants to think it’s that unspoken resonance still very much between them. He doesn’t want to think it’s misplaced

It isn’t as awkward as Junhui would have thought, even if he ignores Jisoo’s worried glances. Minghao also seems to be very focused and confident with his directions, like he has a very clear vision of what he wants Junhui to do. It was one of the things Junhui had admired about Minghao, part of why he liked working with him so much.

At the end of the shoot, Junhui calls out his thanks to everyone involved. And, if this were three years ago, Junhui would have hopped up to Minghao putting away his equipment and said an awkwardly flirty line, assured that it was something Minghao welcomed, wanted. 

He shakes his head, clearing his throat as Jisoo comes to collect him for their meeting soon. He doesn’t approach Minghao at his table, just smiles when he catches his eye and heads out of the room, ushered by Jisoo. 

+++

Junhui finishes his meeting with Jisoo and Seungcheol in time for his dinner with Hansol. He tells Jisoo he doesn’t have to come this time, presumably because he knows that it might be awkward for Seungkwan. 

He drops by the studio room again, looking over his schedule on his phone to pick up Hansol. 

“Knock, knock,” he says, peering his head in. He spots Minghao and sees Hansol darting his eyes between them again. “Ready for dinner?” 

“Dinner?” Minghao repeats, eyes swelling as he looks between them. 

Junhui nods, taking one last glance at his phone before putting it in his pocket. “I’m having dinner with Hansollie.”

“Ah,” Minghao choruses out, his head moving back in an exaggerated nod. 

Junhui pouts, seeing the look in Minghao’s eye and realizing how rude he must sound. “Did you want to co—” 

“No!” Hansol quickly objects, standing up and meeting Junhui at the door. “I mean….” He turns to Minghao, moving to shove Junhui out, although he refuses to budge. “Sorry, hyung. I normally would invite you, it’s just… I really want to eat with Jun-hyung alone today,” he says, finishing sheepishly.

“Oh,” Minghao replies, blinking. His eyes swell again, staring at Junhui as his lips purse a little. 

Junhui shrugs, trying not to smirk too much at how cute the sight is. “I guess we’ll eat together another time, [Hao—]” He stops the rest from leaving his lips, drawing them together in a line. He watches to see if Minghao has a problem with Junhui’s slip-up somehow, but Minghao’s face just relaxes into his regular squished smile, eyes softening. It’s still cute.

“I’d like that, yeah.”

Junhui nods, clearing his throat. “Great,” he says, taking his phone out to have something to distract himself with. 

Hansol makes a weird noise in his throat, “O-kay,” he says, drawing the tones out. “Well, we’d better get going, I made reservations.” He continues shoving Junhui out the door. 

Junhui’s head whips to him. He wants to question it but Hansol’s eyes widen at him in an urgent look not to, so he looks back at Minghao. “Well, see you later then.”

Minghao lifts a hand and waves in minute motions. “See you. Uh, have a good dinner.”

“Thanks, hyung!” Hansol finishes shoving Junhui out the door, pulling it closed behind him and breathing out a sigh of relief. 

Junhui chuckles as they start walking down the hall. “Why don’t you want him to come along?”

Hansol blinks, straightening up. “The dinner is the one for my friend who wants to meet you. Seungkwan-ah, remember? It might be weird with Myungho-hyung there, y’know?”

“Ah,” Junhui says, nodding along as he continues scrolling through his phone and once again finding himself disappointed at how Seungkwan still wasn’t summoned despite Hansol saying his name. He wonders what Mingyu’s paranoia is based on.

They make it into the elevator before Hansol decides to speak again. 

“By the way,” he broaches, sounding slightly cautious but mostly curious, “what was that you called Myungho-hyung back there?”

Junhui gulps a little, thumb pausing before he continues. “Uh, it’s… it just means boss,” he says, thinking quickly. “He’s your boss, isn’t he?”

Hansol remains quiet, turning his head to him slowly, eyes narrowing. “Hm.”

Junhui frowns. “What? It’s Mandarin. Fine, teach me something in English then.”

Hansol turns back to the doors of the elevator, snorting a small chuckle. “{Liar.}” 

“Yah!” Junhui scoffs, slinging an arm around Hansol’s neck. “Don’t make me reconsider adopting you, kid.” 

+++

Hansol and Junhwi arrive at the Korean restaurant Hansol picked out a few minutes earlier than Seungkwan does.

While Junhwi takes a seat across Hansol and lets Hansol order a special chicken feet dish he’s always wanted to try, Hansol beams at him once the server walks away. “So it’s good to see you and Myungho-hyung together again.”

Junhwi blinks. “Excuse me?”

Hansol quirks his head to the side quickly. “I-is it a secret? You and Myungho-hyung made up, right? Aren’t you dating again?” 

Junhwi frowns, tilting his head. “Myungho and I aren’t together, we’re friends. What makes you think…?”

“But—” Hansol objects, eyes wavering. “I thought when you talked the other week, after the shoot, I thought you guys would…. When I asked him for your photo, he called you Jun-hyung again.”

Junhwi seems conflicted, eyes downcast and unsure. Hansol suddenly feels guilty, as if he’s just punched Junhwi in the gut and wants to take it back. 

As he looks down at his hand, inspecting it, Junhwi says, “Sometimes things don’t work out the way you want, Hansollie. It’s okay.” He looks back up, moving aside his utensils and smiling in a strained way that tries to be reassuring. “We won’t be arguing anymore, at least, so don’t worry.”

“Was it something Myungho-hyung said?” Hansol insists, the thought of Seungkwan coming soon being pushed to an off corner of his mind. “Or didn’t say? I know he’s my boss but sometimes hyung is just really stubborn.” 

Junhwi doesn’t say anything but Hansol can tell by the look on his face, how he guiltily diverts his gaze, that Hansol’s on the right track. That Junhwi must have given Myungho an opening, begged for _something,_ and didn’t hear the words he wanted. Hansol feels himself deflating. Maybe he _does_ need to confess to Junhwi on Myungho’s behalf. 

“What hyung did at the shoot with you, that isn’t just something he _does._ I have the picture and Myungho-hyung’s really…” _in love with you,_ he tries to implore with his eyes. 

Junhwi takes a deep breath, face lighting up in another polite smile. “It’s nice of you to be so concerned, Hansollie, but it’s okay, really.”

“Hyung,” Hansol says, putting a hand down on the table, “please tell me you’ll talk to him again.”

The door chimes and Junhwi looks over at Seungkwan coming in. “I’ll think about it, Hansollie. But right now we have a dinner to get through.” 

Hansol keeps his eyes on Junhwi, a sense of worry twisting in his gut even as Seungkwan cheerfully plops himself beside him. He doesn’t know why he feels so involved with something not concerning him and he’s not sure where it’s coming from. Maybe it’s his admiration towards Myungho, or his growing fondness towards Junhwi, or his odd new protectiveness over both of them.

He also didn’t miss the fact that Junhwi called him ‘Hansollie’ three times in a row when he usually sprinkles in a ‘kid’ somewhere in there. 

He wishes he knew what kind of omen that was.

*****

_Junhui wasn’t kidding when he said he’d wanted Minghao to look over his deals with him._

_Jisoo had been hesitant at first but Junhui insisted that Minghao knew what he was doing far better than Junhui did. As much as possible, Minghao avoided telling Junhui specifically what to do. All he did was point out what each brand stood for, what style of clothing they did and what he felt would suit Junhui best._

_“I would recommend this one, but if you like the more casual style, you can go with this,” Minghao finishes, circling things on the contracts with the dull end of a pen and pushing them towards Junhui._

_Junhui hums, picking them both up and flipping through them. He leans back against his sofa beside Minghao, with Jisoo eyeing them in the solo loveseat an angle away. Minghao’s legs are crossed, leaning forward to the coffee table where his tea is._

_Jisoo picks up his glass of water, mostly waiting for Junhui to finish deciding but also stealing occasional glances at Minghao. Minghao wants to bet the looks are because Junhui’s crossed his own legs and one of Junhui’s feet is rhythmically tapping at Minghao’s ankle._

_“Do you want something to eat?” Minghao offers, putting his mug down, not sure what else to do. “I could go find you something.”_

_Jisoo chuckles. “You act like I haven’t been restocking the cupboards since before you got here,” he says, laughing. “But thanks, I’m good.”_

_Eventually Junhui leans over Minghao’s lap to pass Jisoo one of the contracts. “I’ll go with this one then,” he says as he tosses the other one back on the coffee table. “I trust [Minghao’s] opinion.”_

_It wasn’t that Minghao disliked Junhui’s nicknames as his way of showing affection, but Minghao had started feeling awkward with him using them in front of other people, especially in serious situations. He’d brought it up to Junhui, whose eyes had softened before going into a mild worry. Junhui had apologized and compiled, although he stood firm in not calling him ‘Myungho’ unless he had to._

_Jisoo takes it, rolling the stapled papers and tapping it against his knee. “Sure, I’ll give them a call and we’ll arrange a meeting,” he says, gathering his things as he stands up. “I’ll head out now, you two be good.”_

_Junhui calls out a noise of acknowledgement that wouldn’t sound too out of place in an anime, fully committing to draping himself across Minghao’s lap as Jisoo heads out the door. Minghao shifts a little, leaning forward to grab Junhui’s TV remote from the coffee table, beside the rejected contract._

_Minghao uncrosses his legs and Junhui settles his head in his lap, tossing over on his side to face the screen. One of Minghao’s hands idly plays with Junhui’s hair while he flips through television channels._

_“Shua-hyung doesn’t have a problem with us, right?” Minghao asks, slightly nervous._

_Minghao feels Junhui lightly drumming a hand against his knee. “Hm, no, he’s actually pretty happy. Whenever I try to argue with him, he jokes about recruiting you to his side so he’ll always win, so I’m pretty sure he likes you,” Junhui replies casually. The hand tapping at Minghao’s knee moves up and down his shin a little. “Why? Did he say something to you? If he did, I wasn’t listening, I was reading the contracts.”_

_“No, he didn’t say anything,” Minghao says, unable to find a channel he likes. “I don’t know, I don’t really know how to read him. He’s smiling a lot so I feel like I’d never really know if he dislikes something or not.”_

_Junhui laughs. “That’s how he gets us through negotiations, really. He has this super polite smile, even when he drags someone to his point and beats them over the head with it. It’s interesting to watch.” He rubs Minghao’s shin again. “Don’t worry, he won’t do it to you. You helped him win a bet against Jeonghannie-hyung, after all.”_

_“There was a bet against Jeonghannie-hyung?”_

_“Don’t worry, it’s not personal. Those two just bet on anything. One time they set up a trap somewhere in the hallway and bet whether Channie or Seungcheollie-hyung would fall for it first. Oh, wait! Go back one channel! I think that's the show Heechullie-hyung was obsessed with. He wouldn’t stop talking about it for months.” Junhui sits up a little, pointing at the screen and Minghao obliges._

_He plays with Junhui’s hair a bit more, lightly running his fingers through it and moving them around. “What was the bet I helped Shua-hyung win?”_

_Junhui shifts in Minghao’s lap, pressing himself closer and hugs his arm around Minghao’s legs. “Look, don’t take it too personally, okay?” he asks in a childishly pout-filled voice._

_Minghao puts the remote down beside him and drums his fingers along Junhui’s neck. “I won’t.”_

_Junhui sighs, hugging closer still. “Jeonghannie-hyung thought you weren’t serious about me and bet that you’d leave me within four months.”_

_Minghao freezes. “Oh.” He takes a deep, slow breath._

_Junhui shifts in his lap again, tossing over on his back to look up at him. “You know it doesn’t mean anything about you, right? Jeonghannie-hyung barely knows you, he’s just… cautious. He thinks the cases were somehow his fault and he doesn’t really know how else to make up for it but by being paranoid towards anyone that shows an interest in me.” He reaches a hand up to the back of Minghao’s neck to angle him into looking at him. “It’s okay. I didn’t doubt you. And neither did Shua-hyung if that comforts you at all.”_

_Minghao wants to answer, but the words are trapped in his throat when he sees Junhui’s eyes searching his again. He thinks he knows Junhui well enough by now to expect Junhui’s hand pulling his head down as Junhui leans up, meeting him halfway in a kiss that isn’t entirely unwelcome._

_They’ve done this several times by now, able to slip together easily, but Minghao still melts into it, his own hand drifting to Junhui’s jaw to hold his head up. Junhui is warm, because of course he is, lips moving against Minghao’s gently, reassuring, trying to get Minghao to stop worrying about Jeonghan or Jisoo or whoever else because there’s_ just Junhui _and that’s all that matters._

_So Minghao lets himself go, presses closer to Junhui, and lets Junhui tug at his lower lip. His breath shudders between them and his hand at Junhui’s jaw shifts tighter. Junhui seems to take this as a hint and tugs at his lip more insistently, sitting himself up and Minghao lets out a noise from the back of his throat._

_Junhui pulls back, the hand at Minghao’s neck relaxing, and his warmth-filled eyes dance around Minghao’s face again, a gentle smile gracing his lips. Minghao pants a little, waiting for Junhui to say whatever he’s thinking about saying. Except Junhui leans back a bit more, to get a better look at him and Minghao only registers the blurry image of a historical drama playing behind Junhui’s head._

_Junhui places a gentle peck at the corner of Minghao’s mouth. “Better now?”_

_“Hmm. Maybe a bit more, just to be sure,” Minghao replies, brushing hair out of Junhui’s face again. There’s the sound of swords clashing and both of them look towards the TV screen._

_Junhui presses another gentle peck, high on Minghao’s cheek this time. “Later,” he says, shifting to lay back down on Minghao’s lap, facing the screen. “I wanna see why Heechullie-hyung’s so interested in this.”_

_Minghao sighs, a defeated smile on his face as his hands return to idly playing with Junhui’s hair. After a while, they both realize the drama is Chinese and Minghao fidgets with the remote, trying to figure out how to remove the Korean subtitles. He passes the remote to Junhui when he makes grabby hands at him._

_“Jun-ah?” Minghao asks as Junhui’s focused on the remote._

_“Hm?”_

_“What do you think about asking Director Siwon-nim for help with roles that_ aren’t _in Korean?”_

_Junhui finally figures out the remote, removing the Korean subtitles and tosses the device beside Minghao’s thigh. “You think I’d look okay in a drama like that?” he asks, tilting his head up towards Minghao._

_“More than okay.” Minghao giggles. “Only if you’re interested, though. Because I know you were still nervous about most of the Korean roles so it’d be something to think about.”_

_Junhui hums. “You think Siwon-hyungnim could help with that, though?”_

_Minghao shrugs. “Couldn’t hurt to try. I could go with you when you ask him, if you want.”_

_Adding ‘if you want’ had become their way of tentatively poking at the others’ boundaries, which Minghao only figured out after all the “invitations” Junhui’s been giving him to visit him on set._

_Junhui stills and tosses back to face the screen. After a few seconds, Minghao hears a muffled clapping sound and sees Junhui’s feet kicking together off to the side. “Okay!” Junhui decides, voice sounding weightlessly chipper as he hugs an arm around Minghao’s legs again. “Yes, I want you to go with me. We’ll talk to Siwon-hyungnim.”_

_Minghao chuckles and presses a kiss next to Junhui’s ear, hand threading through his hair. Junhui sighs contentedly in response and Minghao leans back to continue watching. As he watches the historical drama play out on screen, Minghao doesn’t think Junhui would be entirely out of place there._

*****

Mingyu actually sends Wonwoo another video file. He still uses formal language in his email but at least Mingyu doesn’t sound like he’s releasing a press statement this time. 

_‘I tried out some of the stuff you sent me! What do you think about this?’_

The clip is about ninety-seven seconds long, but this time the footage is of someone else instead of Mingyu. Wonwoo thinks he might’ve seen him at the shoot, the slightly shorter male with the high cheekbones. He also gathers that this means Mingyu must have been the one shooting this time. 

This time, Mingyu doesn’t use interview sound clips and it’s entirely under an alternative rock song in English that Wonwoo only understands a few words of. The clips take place in studio sets, outside on the sidewalk, near Han River. 

He takes out his phone to find the app that Jisoo told him about that can identify songs by playing clips of it. When he finds the name and artist, he texts it to Jisoo to ask him what the song’s about. 

While he waits for Jisoo’s reply, he realizes that he’s going through a lot of trouble for a ninety-second clip for someone who just happened to work with Junhui a few times but… Wonwoo isn’t sure what he’s doing, why he’s doing any of this. There was something about Mingyu that seemed interesting and he’s kind of curious. Besides, Mingyu didn’t seem like a bad person. 

_‘It’s just about being there for someone and comforting them when they’re upset is the short version of it. It’s sweet. Why?’_ is Jisoo’s eventual response. 

_‘Nothing. Just someone sent me an editing clip with an English song and I didn’t know what was going on.’_ Wonwoo types back. ‘ _Thanks.’_

 _‘Sure.’_ is all Jisoo says.

Wonwoo doesn’t know what to do with this information. He plays the clip again and notices that Mingyu cuts and transitions on beat between B-roll and this high-cheekboned person. 

He types out his email, fingers more cautious than usual. _‘The person in the clips, is this for them?’_

 _‘Oh that’s my manager! I didn’t have anyone else to shoot footage of so he became my unwilling subject to practice editing. Does it look okay though?’_ Mingyu replies, adding in a scared emoji at the end. 

Wonwoo lets out a breath, chuckling to himself. _‘It looks fine. Sorry about the question, I was just curious because the song.’_

_‘You thought I had a thing for my manager?’_

_‘I wouldn’t judge. It’s your life. So you knew what the song was saying?’_

_‘I don’t have a thing for my manager. And kinda? I sort of just ran the lyrics through a translator though.’_

_‘Oh… that’s smart.’_ Why didn’t Wonwoo just think of that?

Mingyu’s next email leads with a lot of laughing characters. _‘Is that not what you did?’_

_‘Junnie’s manager speaks English so I just asked him.’_

_‘Junhwi’s manager speaks English? Must be nice. My manager thinks he’s Papago but I wouldn’t rely on him for it… We’re getting off-subject. So it just looks fine?’_

_‘Is fine not good enough? I don’t really know if you still need my advice, actually. You have a pretty good eye for this on your own.’_ Wonwoo isn’t really lying. Mingyu seems to have a good grasp on timing now. _‘If you edit more, you could probably develop a style you like. Unless you want me to send you more videos to look at.’_

Mingyu takes a few minutes to reply. _‘I guess. But on my own is no fun, I like having someone to bounce these things off of. You don’t mind, do you?’_

Wonwoo’s fingers pause on the keyboard. So that’s what this was. _‘No, I don’t. It’s cool. Junnie doesn’t really get what I mean when I talk about it with him so that’d be fine.’_

_‘Great! Do you mind if I just text you? Email is pretty slow. Also can I call you hyung?’_

Wonwoo doesn’t know why he can sort of hear Mingyu’s excited voice, matching the wagging tail he envisioned when he saw him. He types in his phone number in the next email along with _‘Sure. Mingyu-yah.’_

Wonwoo’s phone buzzes and he finally minimizes his email window. _‘This is Mingyu. Here’s proof.’_ Attached is a sequence of selfies. The first looks fine, of Mingyu smiling with the phone angled down toward him. The next has Mingyu’s manager coming into frame from behind. The third is blurry, of Mingyu seemingly realizing he’s not alone and the manager yelling at him. Wonwoo thinks it wouldn’t be a wild bet to say the shot was taken as the phone was being dropped somehow.

 _‘Wow. Did that happen just now?’_ Wonwoo types quickly. 

Mingyu takes a while to reply and Wonwoo goes back to work at his computer in the meantime.

_‘Nah, it’s from this morning. Seungkwan-ah yelled at me. Anyway. Do you mind if I actually come by to watch you edit one day?’_

Wonwoo’s brow raises. _‘Really?’_

_‘Oh. Were you not serious about that? I know I was joking with you the other day because I took your silence as me overstepping boundaries. It’s cool if you don’t want to.’_

_‘I mean, I don’t mind but… seems like a lot of effort for a hobby.’_

_‘I happen to take my hobbies pretty seriously. So you’ll let me know when I can come by?’_

Wonwoo takes a deep breath at his phone. He doesn’t know why his chest feels hesitant, thumbs tapping at characters that spell nothing cohesive before backspacing. _‘Yeah, sure. I’ll let you know.’_

+++

Seungkwan seems friendly enough, Junhui decides. 

He’s very excitable and seems to have details of Junhui’s projects memorized to a degree that would rival Kim Heechul. Junhui is grateful, if a little embarrassed as he answers all of Seungkwan’s set and industry-related questions. 

The dinner goes well, he thinks, even if at the beginning, Hansol had put the menu up between them in order to whisper something to Seungkwan. He also keeps catching Hansol’s eyes nervously looking over at Seungkwan a few times. Junhui starts getting the hint that Hansol has something planned with Seungkwan alone so he finishes the last of his bowl. 

“Well, it was lovely meeting you again, Seungkwan-ah,” Junhui politely says, standing up. “I have to get going but we should definitely do this another time. Keep in touch, okay?”

“Huh?” Seungkwan voices in disappointed confusion, tilting his head up at him. “But I didn’t even get to ask about Myung—ow!” After the thud under the table, he angrily whips his head over to Hansol beside him, who leisurely picks up the last of the chicken feet in the bowl and blows on it.

“Seungkwan-ah, try some,” Hansol says, voice even. He holds the chicken foot in front of Seungkwan’s lips, hand cupped underneath. 

Seungkwan’s resistance seems composed of unsure mumblings and frowns before he relents and lets Hansol feed him. Seungkwan turns his head away from Hansol, likely in embarrassment, as he chews. He indignantly wipes at his mouth with a napkin while Hansol laughs, patting Seungkwan’s shoulder. 

The interaction stirs something in Junhui, a brief flash of fear. _There are so many things that can go wrong._

Junhui isn’t sure why he’s worried. It’s not his relationship. Hansol isn’t Junhui, he reminds himself, and Seungkwan isn’t Minghao. Just because Hansol reminds Junhui of himself doesn’t mean he’s destined to suffer the same relationship pitfalls. 

But maybe Junhui’s just worrying too much again, projecting where he shouldn't be.

_I don’t know what I’m thinking._

“Hansollie-yah,” Junhui starts, tucking his chair in, “take good care of Seungkwannie. I’ll see you at work.”

Hansol looks up. “Huh? I thought we don’t have any shoots together anymore? You’re booked with hyung, right?”

Seungkwan gapes, frantically pushing against Hansol’s shoulder, which he dutifully ignores, keeping his eyes on Junhui and trying to subtly elbow Seungkwan’s side. 

“I’ll still come by the studio. I told you before we were going to have lunch, didn’t I?” 

Hansol stares at him, curious. “Oh. Yeah, sure, hyung. I’ll see you around then.”

Junhui walks out of the restaurant without further objections. He figures he has to give Hansol a chance to give Seungkwan the picture for their date. 

He waits on the curb for Jisoo, tugging his trench coat closer to himself and going over his conversation with Hansol in his head again. Thankfully, Jisoo doesn’t take too much time pulling the car up and Junhui immediately hops in the passenger seat. When he asks to go to Wonwoo’s again, Jisoo doesn’t say anything. 

+++

At his apartment, Minghao pours out a glass of white wine for himself. He would have asked Mingyu if he wanted to come over for some too but Mingyu _had_ said the other day not to call him until he confessed to Junhui.

And Minghao is petty enough to comply and take this to the extreme by not speaking to Mingyu until that exact condition is met. He’s mostly just hoping Mingyu breaks and bugs him first so Minghao doesn’t have to. He also doubts that Mingyu’s condition will end up being met anyway, considering the current situation.

Junhui is out at dinner with Hansol, which Hansol made reservations for. 

Minghao himself has no appetite, even rejecting the congee sitting in his fridge. He’s focused on trying to get rid of the dark, selfish thoughts circling his head. He doesn’t resent Junhui and he can’t resent Hansol. He’s happy that Junhui will have someone so earnest and warm-hearted supporting him, and he’s glad that Hansol will have someone so pure and loyal taking care of him. He’s glad. 

He pours out another portion of wine into his glass and takes a deep breath.

But there’s still the dark part of him, the dark, selfish part that’s still clinging onto everything about the love he threw away, the part of him that screamed and thrashed and clawed at his chest, the part that cried and tore at his heart when he walked out of Junhui’s apartment for the last time, the part that drowned in a sea of alcohol. That part is anything but glad. 

_He was mine._

He can’t bring himself to be completely happy for Junhui yet. But he hopes one day he will be. It’s the right thing to do, he tells himself. It has to be.

*****

_Two days later, Junhui texts Minghao that he’s going to talk to Siwon today before his brand deal meeting and asks if Minghao would still be able to make it._

_Minghao, having only two actor photoshoots to do in the afternoon and some early editing to do, says yes._

_When Minghao arrives on Siwon’s familiar set, he spots Junhui and quickly makes his way over to him._

_“Ah, oh my god, you’re here,” Junhui quickly says. He pecks Minghao’s lips before Minghao is fully able to register it. When he pulls away, Minghao notices that Junhui is clearly anxious and slightly giddy, bouncing on his feet, his head is urgently looking around. He laces his fingers together with Minghao’s. “Siwon-hyungnim!” he calls as he finally finds his target._

_Minghao lets himself be dragged over to the Head Director, who seems to be sending someone off with a task. Once again, when he turns around to face Junhui, he has an extremely wide grin._

_“Heechullie-hyung’s son! How can I help you?” Siwon asks, hands on his hips that reminds Minghao of the fun uncle asking what he can help you hide from your parents._

_“Ah, hyungnim, I was just,” Junhui starts, slightly nervously, and Minghao squeezes Junhui’s hand just in case. “We were wondering if you would be able to help me with auditions and practice for roles that” —he looks over at Minghao, who wordlessly meets Junhui’s eyes and nods in encouragement— “aren't in Korean. If that’s something you can do,” he finishes, looking back at Siwon with a nervous breath._

_Siwon looks back and forth between them. “Not English roles, right?” he asks, leaning back._

_“Chinese roles,” Junhui clarifies, pushing forward on his toes. Minghao has to stop himself from smiling at the shy motion. “Like the ones Dad-Heechul watches.”_

_Siwon hums in thought, pursing his lips and folds one arm across himself. He looks back and forth between them again. “I probably can’t since I’ve never been near that market. But I might know a few people who can. Give me a few days, I’ll see if I can contact them for you and get back to your manager or something, okay?”_

_Minghao thinks he sees Junhui’s eyes light up as he releases Minghao’s hand in order to launch himself towards Siwon in an over-excited hug, spewing out a “Thanks, hyungnim!” as he does._

_Like the uncle Minghao has come to see Siwon as, the Director warmly hugs back, chuckling._

_+++_

_Minghao goes back to his apartment that evening. As happy as he was that Siwon was looking into Junhui’s request and wanted to spend more time with him, sometimes Minghao needed to unwind and relax on his own._

_Junhui, of course, understood and even offered to have Jisoo drop him off. Jisoo doesn’t mind either, just slips in another teasing remark at how much time Minghao spends at Junhui’s._

_Because he thinks he’s funny, Junhui insists on walking Minghao to his building entrance —_ “ I'm keeping you safe! Yes, the entire eight metre distance from the car! Anything could happen!” _— and kisses Minghao’s cheek before giggling and running back to where Jisoo has the car waiting. Minghao's cheeks press up in a smile as he watches the car drive off. He wonders if his heart will ever get used to Junhui doing unexpected things for him._

_When Minghao enters his apartment and lines his shoes up, he notices an extra pair and doesn’t know what to expect. It’s definitely not Eunwoo on the couch with Mingyu. They don’t seem to have been doing anything offensive, but Eunwoo jumps away from Mingyu like they were._

_“Sorry,” Minghao says, tiptoeing his way through the living area to get to his room. “Don’t mind me, I’ll be out of your hair soon.”_

_Eunwoo scoffs as Minghao passes. “I didn’t know you’d be here.”_

_“I live here,” Minghao flatly returns, stopping to address them._

_“Really? Well, you haven’t for a while,” Eunwoo says, tilting his head just a little too far._

_Mingyu seems to know where this is going. “Eunwoo, that's not—”_

_“Excuse me?” Minghao tosses his bag aside._

_“You’re always off with your boyfriend, aren’t you? I’ve been here dozens of times, you were just never around.”_

_Minghao scoffs, deep in the back of his throat, hand going to his hip. His eyes dart to Mingyu, because_ of course Mingyu would have told him. _“Mingyu, I thought the other day you told me I still lived here?”_

_“You do,” Mingyu replies, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. It comes out sounding awkwardly stiff. “I was just saying it hasn’t felt like it lately, that’s all I meant.”_

_“He’s just being polite,” Eunwoo supplies. Minghao doesn't miss the movement of Eunwoo squeezing Mingyu’s thigh, likely in comfort or reassurance of some sort._

_Minghao admits he’s been spending a lot of time at Junhui’s apartment. But that just happened to be a consequence of their relationship growing more serious. Minghao never intended on leaving Mingyu behind, even wanted to involve Mingyu if he wasn’t so set against Junhui from the beginning. He says this much to both of them while he picks up his bag and heads to his room, calling out a final “Sorry I interrupted,” before closing his door._

_A few hours later, when Minghao’s made himself comfortable on his bed, leaning his back against the wall with his laptop on his lap, Mingyu peeks his head in his room. “Eunwoo's gone.”_

_Minghao doesn't look away from his laptop screen. “You didn’t have to send him away on my account.”_

_“He was being rude. I’m sorry.”_

_“I thought we were doing okay, Mingyu,” Minghao points out, “I stopped being mad because I know you wouldn’t actually believe I’d sleep my way to get ahead in my career. I told you about how things are progressing with Jun-hyung because I still want to keep you in my life. Are you still mad at me? Is that why you’re saying things to Eunwoo?”_

_“I was just ranting, I needed someone to talk to.”_

_Minghao looks up at him. “About me and Jun-hyung?”_

_Mingyu bites his lip. “I told him you had a boyfriend. I didn’t say who it was.”_

_“You couldn’t have just talked to me? I—” Minghao isn’t sure what feeling is stabbing at him right now, whether it’s guilt or betrayal. Whichever one it is, he’s pretty sure the other one is twisting the knife._

_There’s one string of thought that keeps running through Minghao’s head: that Eunwoo really was saying the things Mingyu has just been too polite to say to Minghao directly, that somehow Eunwoo was saying what Mingyu truly thought._

_“You... “ Mingyu sighs again, raking his hair back. “It’s not that easy. You’re just so in love with him that you wouldn’t… have listened, so it wouldn’t have mattered.”_

_“Listened to what?”_

_Mingyu doesn’t respond, only takes in a sharp breath through his teeth._

_“You still have a problem with him,” Minghao concludes, still flat._

_Mingyu still doesn’t respond._

_“You don’t have to like Jun-hyung or want to spend time with him, that’s your right. I’ve accepted that you two aren’t going to be best friends or anything.” Minghao exhales, deeply forcing all the air from his lungs. “But can you at least tell me_ why _you have a problem with him? Even if I may not agree, I’ll still listen, I— I don’t know, I don’t want to keep doing this thing where you’re upset but you don’t talk to me.”_

_“I don’t have a problem with Junhwi.” Mingyu rakes his hair back, looking around and growing stressed on his own._

_“Then do you have a problem with_ me? ” _Minghao tries instead._

_“What? No!” Mingyu immediately objects, almost on instinct. He rakes his hand through his hair again, as if he wasn’t sure what to do with them. It pauses near the top of his head, tugging at the strands there. “I don’t know.” The words tumble out softly, defeated and rumbling like they’re closer to the truth than anything else Mingyu’s said so far._

_Minghao sets his laptop aside. “You don’t know?” he repeats in disbelief. He shuffles to the end of the bed, standing up and walking up to his roommate. “You don’t know if you have a problem with me?”_

_Mingyu’s arm drops limply by his side, expression still downcast and he shakes his head in another defeated “I’m not sure” motion._

_“Are you okay with me living here or not?” Minghao firmly presses._

_Mingyu sighs. “Of course I am. I just… need more time.”_

_At the recycled words, Minghao also lets out a breath, long and heavy, like it’s been pressed within his chest for too long. “Okay.”_

*****

The mid-autumn festival went well for Hansol.

He was able to spend some time with his family, tease his sister a little and, before leaving for the holidays, Seungkwan had agreed to officially go out with him. 

Hansol had made a joke before they parted ways at the restaurant, calmly saying, “I’ll be a really good boyfriend,” after wiping some sauce from Seungkwan’s face.

Seungkwan looked at the Junhwi-autographed picture in his hand, eyes reading over it a few times and pouted. When he looked back at Hansol, he huffed out an embarrassed, “You better!” and continued silently pouting, just watching Hansol as he felt a grin stretching his face. 

“What?”

Seungkwan set the picture aside. “You were looking at me with the weird honey eyes again, I thought you were going to kiss me.”

“Do you _want_ me to kiss you?”

“It’d be ni—” 

So Hansol did kiss him. It was short and fairly soft, enough for the warmth to spread throughout him and leave him a little lightheaded. Seungkwan was particularly giggly afterwards so Hansol figured he was okay with it too. 

He also figured it was too early to mention it to his family but Sofia had caught him grinning to himself and somehow pieced it together and yelled “He’s dating someone!” to the whole family. Hansol would honestly be surprised if she didn’t. He managed to avoid going into more detail by loudly claiming “I’m just really sensitive right now!” until his family members dropped it.

When the mid-autumn holiday ends and Hansol goes back into work, he wants to find Junhwi to tell him about his development with Seungkwan. Mostly because he feels it was largely in part to Junhwi that it happened in the first place. He sends a text to Joshua asking if Junhwi would be willing to see him again.

On his way to his desk, he gets a text message from Chan, asking how his holiday was and if he wants to get lunch again to catch up since their last outing together. He’s about to answer when Joshua replies to him.

_‘Junnie says he can do lunch with you next week. He says he owes you one anyway. Is that okay with you?’_

Hansol replies yes and tells Chan he’s excited to meet him for lunch. He thinks he can also tell Chan about Seungkwan because he just wants to tell _someone._

He then gets an excited text message from Seungkwan gushing about his holiday in Jeju Island with Bookkeu and his family, a selfie, and asking about Hansol, complete with heart stickers.

“You’re grinning. Are you flirting with someone?”

Hansol looks at his boss as he enters the room, watching him suspiciously. “I’m trying,” he admits, hoping his face isn’t flushing up too much. Myungho just stares at him. “I had a good holiday. How was yours, hyung?” he asks, changing the subject.

He thinks about telling Myungho about his relationship development with Seungkwan but he holds back. One, because he’s not sure if Seungkwan would be okay with it, and two, because he thinks it might make Myungho feel awkward, announcing his relationship while he’s still in a mess with Junhwi. 

Myungho hums, settling in at his desk. “It was fine, Hansol-ah.” 

Hansol has known that Myungho always gives succinct answers whenever Hansol asks him questions, always brief and to the point. He rarely divulged into detail so Myungho describing his holiday as just ‘fine’ isn’t unusual. 

Well, not unusual for the Myungho Hansol knew up until a few months ago. Hansol had thought that Myungho had worked past that since Junhwi’s return, he thought he saw Myungho softening up; he can’t comprehend why Myungho has returned to icy and impassive now.

Maybe it _really_ isn’t a good time to tell him about Seungkwan.

 _‘Okay, Hansol-hyung! ^-^ see you at lunch!’_ Chan texts back, along with a lengthy paragraph that Hansol gathers is about his emotional revelations lately. Hansol is a bit overwhelmed and knows he isn’t the best to respond to those types of things. He sends a thumbs up sticker and turns back to Myungho. 

Hansol nods. “How were your shoots with Jun-hyung?” he asks, trying to return Myungho’s mood to normal.

Myungho tilts his head, turning in his chair a little. “It was fine,” he says, setting off the ‘recycled answer’ flag in Hansol’s head. “The other one is later this week. Yours are okay?” His voice tips into concern at the end, relieving Hansol’s heart slightly.

After Seungcheol’s suggested shift in Hansol’s responsibilities, Hansol was independently relegated to shoots that Myungho doesn’t have time for. Hansol doesn’t really mind, he’s happy to do whatever he can and he’s still happy Myungho trusts him. “They’re great. I like them.”

He watches his boss carefully, thinking back to his conversation with Junhwi the other night. Myungho must have his own reasons for saying what he said to Junhwi that day when they talked. Whatever he said that convinced Junhwi they were better this way, even if Hansol can’t figure it out. He can’t figure out why Myungho would say whatever that was and still seem frigidly unhappy.

Myungho rummages through the cabinet and leaves the room for his own shoot before Hansol can say anything, even if he wanted to. He pulls up the photo from his own shoot with Junhwi weeks ago, the one with Myungho in it, and stares at their expressions —wholly entranced and affectionate and gentle _and fond,_ everything he’s never seen Myungho wear before— now frozen in pixels on Hansol’s screen.

He doesn’t understand.

But maybe Junhwi was right. Maybe some things really don't work out.

+++

After the mid-autumn festival, Wonwoo gives Mingyu a list of times he can come watch how he edits. He doesn’t exactly know how Mingyu’s schedule works so he feels giving a list of options for him to choose from would be best. 

Mingyu seems eager to pick one after regular work hours, coming by in the late afternoon right after holiday. 

Wonwoo admits that Mingyu does seem to be an adept learner, quickly picking up his tips and asking questions about his choices.

“You were doing a music video so you wouldn’t need a J-cut there. But when you’re doing the interview-style or documentary videos, it’s a neat trick,” Wonwoo says, tilting his head up at Mingyu hovering over his desk. 

Unlike Junhui, who preferred to hang out on the bed while Wonwoo edited, Mingyu wanted to be right near the screen to see exactly what Wonwoo was doing. Wonwoo wouldn’t have minded if Mingyu wasn’t so spatially unaware and leaning too close, the sandalwood scent wafting into Wonwoo’s senses.

Wonwoo doesn’t know how long it’s been but he finishes the project he had to work on and realizes Mingyu was hanging over him like a weird scarecrow the entire time. He’s about to apologize for not offering him a chair but Mingyu chuckles, backing away first. 

“That was really cool, hyung,” he says in slight awe. 

Wonwoo frowns. “I didn’t really explain much. And I should’ve brought a seat over for you, sorry.”

Mingyu shrugs. “I don’t mind. I feel like I learned a lot anyway.”

Wonwoo clears his throat. “Yeah, well, it’s no problem. Anytime you’re available, just let me know and I can show you another project.”

After some awkward shuffling, Wonwoo insists that Mingyu stay for dinner. Mainly because he feels bad kicking him out, despite Mingyu’s protests that he didn’t want to intrude. However the problem came when Wonwoo realizes he doesn’t actually have anything to serve. 

He really should have thought of this before he invited a guest over. His fridge only contains some leftover rice he had from takeout the other night. He has half a mind to sneak up to Junhui’s to take some food again but that might be even weirder presenting that to Mingyu. He opens one of his drawers full of restaurant pamphlets.

“Mingyu-yah! I’ll just order something. What kind of food do you like?” Wonwoo calls out, flipping through his options. 

Mingyu’s head pops into his kitchen. “You’re just going to order takeout?”

Wonwoo gulps at that, feeling a bit self-conscious at the fact that he doesn’t have any food nor the means to properly prepare any. “Uh, yeah. I don’t have anything right now and I don’t want to be a bad host so… I’ll just order something for both of us.”

Mingyu walks in. “Do you mind if I check? I’m pretty good at cooking.”

“Th-there’s really nothing in there,” Wonwoo tries to object as the model beelines to his embarrassing fridge. 

Mingyu ignores him, opening the fridge while Wonwoo shrinks back.

“I’ll order you something, it’s okay,” he says again. 

Mingyu chuckles, looking through his cupboards next to the fridge. Wonwoo’s eyes go to Mingyu’s feet, slightly bitter about the fact that he doesn’t have to tiptoe to reach it like Wonwoo does.

“You have ramen here!” Mingyu exclaims, pulling out the packets of instant ramen. 

Wonwoo’s posture slackens. “It’s not really something I’d present to a guest. Especially one I just met.” He makes a grab for the packets but Mingyu moves them out of Wonwoo’s reach.

“I don’t mind. I’ll cook them,” he says, shuffling around and looking through Wonwoo’s kitchen for a pot. “Consider it payment for teaching me your video editing stuff.”

Wonwoo feels frozen in place, watching Mingyu floating around like he knows far too well what he’s doing. He watches helplessly as Mingyu gets the pot and water ready. He still looks around, opening and closing cupboards at frantic speeds. 

“You weren’t kidding when you said you don’t have anything. Not even spring onions, sesame oil, nothing?” Mingyu looks at him again. 

Wonwoo’s mind once again briefly considers going to Junhui’s apartment to take stuff. “I don’t.”

Mingyu chuckles. “Okay. I think I saw a grocery store nearby. I’m going to go there and grab stuff before I go mad. Just buzz me back in.” He takes off before Wonwoo can argue. 

Mingyu comes back about twenty minutes later with plastic shopping bags and gets to work chopping and tossing things into the pot faster than Wonwoo can keep up with. He slinks away to his room while Mingyu does that and before long, Wonwoo walks back in to see Mingyu’s completed bowls of ramen. He looks oddly proud of himself and Wonwoo doesn’t blame him, being able to make food out of basically nothing. 

“This tastes familiar,” Wonwoo notes, taking a particularly large slurp.

Mingyu scoffs, chuckling. “It should, it’s just ramen.”

Wonwoo shakes his head. “No, like,” he says, tossing some around with his chopsticks, “what did you do to it? I feel like I’ve had something like this before once. I sometimes eat ramen with Junnie and Shua-hyung, it’s not really this.” He frowns at it, trying to figure it out. 

Mingyu shrugs and shakes his head in an unsure motion. “I don’t know what to tell you, that’s just how I always prepare ramen,” he offers, still chuckling. “Is it okay though?” 

Wonwoo nods, shoving more noodles in his mouth. “Yeah, it’s great,” he replies, still trying to place it.

“So what do you usually edit on your own?” Mingyu asks. “Besides work projects.”

Wonwoo pauses. “Uh.”

Mingyu offers a kind smile. “I saw you working on something before I got here, I was just curious,” he says, eyes dancing around. “Actually, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. That was kind of invasive, sorry.”

Wonwoo shakes his head. “It’s just… something I’m working on for Junnie.”

“Like an audition reel?”

“No, it’s just.” Wonwoo pauses again, taking a breath. “A home project.” 

*****

_The first time Minghao ever gets into a fight with a staff member, it’s during the first shoot he has with Junhui and his Versace deal._

_Because Minghao is petty and slightly territorial._

_That was his excuse anyway. What he told Jieqiong was a few choice words, mainly questioning her intentions and that he isn’t going to photograph Junhui when she dressed him like that because she should know better and how dare she do this to Junhui when Minghao could totally do better. What he told Chan was that there were creative differences and no, he doesn’t know why Jieqiong is pissed at him. What he ended up telling Junhui was that Jieqiong just happened to be blind today and didn’t know how to style him._

_“[She knows what she’s doing, HaoHao. It’s kind of her job,]” Junhui had gently pointed out. Minghao begrudgingly goes through with the session anyways because Junhui also pointed out that taking Junhui’s photos is kind of_ Minghao’s job.

_On the car ride back to Junhui’s apartment, Minghao can tell that the looks Junhui’s been giving him means he knows Minghao didn’t just blow up at Jieqiong over simple styling choices but he doesn’t say anything. His hand still drifts to Minghao’s, thumb brushing over the back of it a few times._

_“You’re editing here?” Junhui asks, coming from the kitchen with a cup of tea for Minghao and himself._

_Minghao has set up his laptop on Junhui’s dining table, content to sit and try to work with a USB mouse. “Yes. Is that okay?”_

_Junhui heads back into the kitchen, presumably for some more lemons. “It is, but are you sure— I mean, I don’t know, I’m just worried. You don’t usually yell at Kyulkyungie, even for my sake, and you don’t usually do your work here. Did something happen with your roommate?”_

_Minghao sighs, brushing his hair back. “[Look, Junhui, Minkui and I are fine. I still intend on being friends with him, we really just need more time to sort things out. Now, can you please stop bringing him up?]” The frustration was too evident in his voice, he notices, when he sees the hurt, conflicted look on Junhui’s face._

_Minghao starts feeling guilty for almost blowing up at him._

_Junhui shuffles a bit more in the kitchen before he makes his way back to the table. He puts down his tupperware of lemons and takes a seat beside Minghao, leaning his head on Minghao’s shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles into the base of Minghao’s neck. “I know it’s your friendship so it’s none of my business but, I don’t know, it’s hard when you’re upset and I can’t help.”_

_Minghao sighs, patting Junhui’s head with his other hand. “Sorry I yelled at you,” he says, clicking on his screen to open his USB folder. “You’re cute to worry, but you don’t have to.”_

_Junhui huffs a laugh through his nose, tickling Minghao’s skin. “At least I’m still cute. That’s good to know.”_

_“You thought you weren’t cute anymore?”_

_“I thought you’d stop telling me I was cute just because I already confessed my love and all.”_

_Minghao spurts a laugh that dissolves into giggles. “Does that mean you’re going to stop telling me_ I’m _cute now?”_

_Junhui’s head shoots off Minghao, jolting upright. “Never! You’re always cute!” he quickly insists, gauging Minghao’s reaction with his eyes. When all Minghao does is squish his lips together in a pressed smile and blink shyly up at him, Junhui settles his head back in the crook of Minghao’s neck and swings his legs across Minghao’s lap. “Do you want to go painting again? I’ll paint you more sunflowers.”_

_Minghao blinks. “Those were sunflowers last time?”_

_“Yes.” A beat. “Could you not tell?”_

_“I uh, I thought they were just yellow flowers.”_

_Junhui huffs again. “They were sunflowers, how dare you. I was even going to give that piece to you.”_

_“Aw, that’s sweet. Why though?”_

_“You remind me of sunflowers. And I thought we don’t do real flowers so I painted some,” Junhui replies in a timidly small voice. “So do you want to go painting again?”_

_“Jun-ah, I know that’s your way of saying you think I’m pushing my emotions down,” Minghao sighs, opening a folder to start editing. “But I told you not to worry. Mingyu and I will be fine, okay?”_

_Junhui hums, snuggling his head further into Minghao. “Fine, but you can’t say I didn’t try.”_

_Minghao scoffs. “I know you did, and I appreciate it. Now, I thought you were going to watch me edit your pictures.”_

_“I am watching.”_

_“Your eyes aren’t even open.”_

_“How do you know?”_

_“[Junhui,]” Minghao starts in a light scolding tone, “if you’re going to sleep, then go sleep on the bed. I’m trying to work here.”_

_“I can’t believe you’re ordering me around in my own apartment. I like being here,” Junhui mumbles back. “I’m not sleeping, I swear. I’ll be quiet, you just keep working.”_

_True to his word, Junhui doesn’t say anything or try to disturb Minghao in any way besides occasionally shifting his head a little while leaning on him, the hair tickling Minghao’s throat. Otherwise, Minghao would liken it to having a cat sitting on him while he worked; not actively disruptive, but making sure you knew it wanted your attention in some way._

_A few hours later, when Minghao is just about done, he notices Junhui still hasn’t moved or said anything, content to lean on Minghao with his legs sprawled across his lap. Minghao wonders if this was Junhui’s way of trying to comfort him, quietly staying with him, waiting, even when Minghao was difficult and wouldn't talk._

_“[Junhui?]”_

_“Yeah?”_

_“You really didn’t fall asleep?”_

_“My ass is asleep,” he quickly says, shifting a little, “but no, I didn’t.”_

_“You were watching what I was doing?”_

_Junhui grunts. “You clicked on stuff and made me prettier. You did that a bunch of times. You’re really good at that, as I expected.”_

_“You’re being too nice.”_

_“Is that a problem? Are you saying I can’t compliment my boyfriend on his work? Strange.”_

_Minghao hums. “You can get up now, you know. I’m pretty much done and you’re getting heavy.”_

_“My weight has not changed in the last three hours, but thanks for that,” Junhui gripes, getting up. He groans, walking slightly awkwardly as he stands, heading to the kitchen. “I’ll make dinner.”_

_Minghao makes a noise of acknowledgement, standing up himself and stretching._

_He watches Junhui humming to himself as he moves around the kitchen, getting out some chicken to prepare. Minghao finds himself transfixed, at how absorbed Junhui was in his tasks, how familiar it was._

_“[Junhui?]” he says again._

_“Yeah?” Junhui calls back, not looking at him, still focused on his ingredient measuring._

_“About Mingyu….”_

_Junhui freezes, turning towards him. He doesn’t say anything, just blinks and Minghao takes it._

_He tells him everything, about when he went home the other day, about Eunwoo, about Mingyu saying they’re fine when he has a problem with him, about how he doesn’t know why Mingyu is so adamant in sticking to the rumors about Junhui that he can’t be happy for him, about how he can’t understand Mingyu anymore, about how frustrated he is because he just wants them to be okay. It all tumbles out of Minghao’s mouth, not letting himself stop to think about it._

_When Minghao finishes, Junhui is watching him with those heavy, concerned eyes and Minghao can tell he would have hugged him if he weren’t in the middle of cooking._

_“You didn’t have to tell me,” is all Junhui says, timid._

_Minghao comes up behind him, once again leans his chin on Junhui’s shoulder and says, “I wanted to.”_

_Junhui nods a few times, humming. “Then I’m glad you did.”_

_+++_

_Siwon messages Junhui back two days later, apparently saying he was able to bring over his contact for Junhui to meet. Junhui texts Minghao about it, mostly out of excitement. Minghao thinks it’s adorable._

_When he approaches Junhui, Siwon has his arm slung over a new person, a proper-looking man just about as tall as Junhui and wearing thin-framed glasses. Minghao doesn’t know why his first reaction is to grab Junhui’s hand._

_Siwon has the same uncle-like grin when he pats the new person’s shoulder. “Heechullie-hyung’s son, meet Joomyukie. He prefers Zhoumi but he’s experienced with doing Chinese movies and dramas in addition to some South Korean ones, so he can help you better than I can.”_

_Minghao feels Junhui’s hand squeeze around his own as Junhui does a quick ninety-degree bow, shouting out a, “I’m Moon Junhwi, please look after me, sunbaenim!”_

_Minghao watches as Zhoumi’s face scrunches in visible confusion, glancing between Junhui and Siwon, lips pursing and eyes narrowing. He makes odd pointing gestures, twirling his finger in the air, before he finally says, “Weren’t you acting as a child? I started a few years ago. How am I your sunbae?” He turns to Siwon. “He came first, right? That’s how it works here?”_

_Minghao tightens his lips in his mouth as he does his best to control his laughter._

_Junhui, however, is undeterred, eyes sparkling. “It’s okay! I’ll still consider you my sunbae!”_

_Zhoumi glances at Siwon, who shrugs despite his expression matching Minghao’s. “Okay! I will train you, son of Heechul-hyung!” he says, somehow sounding dramatic yet completely serious._

_Siwon’s composure breaks as he folds over laughing. Minghao giggles into his free hand while Junhui watches in awe. Minghao thinks Junhui would have started clapping if Minghao hadn’t stubbornly laced their fingers together._

*****

Minghao notices that he’s been seeing less and less of Hansol the past week.

At first, he thought it had something to do with his increase in responsibilities that their paths wouldn’t cross as much but Hansol has also been eating his lunches out of the office. Minghao doesn’t necessarily mind. Hansol’s lunch time was technically his own personal hour. He just finds it curious. 

There’s another knock on the door and Minghao is half-expecting it to be Junhui again. He doesn’t know if that’s partially due to wishful thinking or because he thinks they don’t get many repeat visitors otherwise. 

This time, however, Chan appears at the doorway, eyes going to Hansol’s desk first and frowning. He turns to Minghao. “Hi Myungho-hyung. Is Hansol-hyung not here?” 

Minghao chuckles. “No, sorry, Chan. He left for lunch or a shoot a while ago.”

Chan hums a discontented noise. “I was hoping he’d be down to get lunch with me today,” he mumbles aloud to himself. “I wonder if he’s eating with his boyfriend.” 

Minghao is pretty sure his heart stops beating, a dull feeling thumping in his head. His eyes start rapidly blinking and his jaw clenches. He forces himself to breathe, deep and heavy, through the tight, pressing squeeze of his chest around his lungs. “Boyfriend?” 

He knew this would happen, Minghao tells himself. He had expected this. He had told himself he was happy, that in his mind, he accepted it. He’d been hoping his heart was willing to accept it too. 

Chan’s eyes widen, lines of panic darkening his face. “Oh my god, I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone about that yet. Can you pretend you don’t know? This never happened. Hansol-hyung would kill me.” 

Minghao supposes they'd have to tell Chan about their relationship, just like he did with Junhui all those years ago. “Sure, I won't tell anyone. This never happened.”

Chan breathes a sigh of relief, features finally relaxing. “Thanks, hyung. Hansol-hyung says he wants to announce it on his own, keeps saying he’s pretty sensitive about it so make sure you're surprised when he tells you,” he says, pausing and briefly looking at Minghao up and down with a fascinated grin. “It's so weird, I actually thought you’d be coming to announce your relationship to me first.”

As much as Minghao loves Chan, he _really_ needs him to stop talking right now. “Oh, really?”

Chan nods, still grinning. “Mm-hm,” he replies distractedly, checking his watch. “Well, you wouldn’t happen to be opposed to eating lunch with me today, would you?” 

Minghao nods and forces a smile to his lip, pressed tight together. “Not at all. You wanna eat here or go out?”

Chan ends up eating in the studio with Minghao. Apparently he’s done talking about Hansol because Chan instead talks about how wary he’s been since Jisoo came back, because as much as he missed him, he and Jeonghan had gone back into their betting ways. 

Meanwhile, Minghao focuses on keeping the smile on his lips, trying to pacify his mind that he knew something would happen with Junhui and Hansol, that he expected this, and told Hansol it was okay. He once again tells himself it’s good that Junhui is fully moving on and opening his heart up to someone else. After all Minghao’s done to him, he tells himself this is good for Junhui.

It’s what’s best, after all.

When Chan leaves, Minghao pulls out the scrap tissue he’d gotten weeks ago, from that guy at the mall when he was being pressured by Jungkook to try and flirt with people to get his heart off Junhui. Slightly shorter but still somehow achingly familiar. 

He didn’t think much about it at the time for whatever reason. It felt irrelevant then. But maybe Minghao can’t keep doing this anymore. 

He can’t keep putting his life on pause for Junhui when Junhui’s already someone else’s boyfriend. He smooths out the tissue and types the numbers into his phone. When he holds it up to his ear, he bites his thumb, wondering if he really wants this guy to pick up or not.

+++

Junhui makes his way down the familiar hallway, towards Minghao and Hansol’s studio. When he asked Jeonghan for the location of it months ago, he didn’t think he’d actually be dropping by this much. 

He’d been eating lunch with Jisoo and Jeonghan, who had started another round of bets. Something about someone from musical theatre and Junhui doesn’t want to be involved. He doesn’t want to be caught as an accomplice, especially if Seungcheol had come out of his office and spotted them so he snuck away. 

He figured going over to Minghao’s and his newly adopted son’s studio room would be okay. He doesn’t know why there’s always something in him pulling him there. He has a shoot with Minghao soon anyway so he can use that as an excuse if asked.

After he spoke with Wonwoo, Junhui thinks that Hansol had made a convincing case, that maybe he misunderstood Minghao’s intentions with the flowers, that Minghao’s ways of showing affection have changed since they last knew each other. That maybe it didn’t matter what the Minghao of the past said before if the Minghao of the present might have different answers. 

Junhui also has a burning itch to ask exactly why Minghao stopped the shoot with Hansol to try and comfort him that day, if it’s really as big of a deal as Jisoo and Hansol were making it out to be after Junhui wanted to brush it off. Junhui doesn’t know what to expect, his heart expecting nothing but anticipating everything.

Junhui doesn’t know what will happen if he gets carried away again. 

He tentatively twists the doorknob, knocking as he presses the door open. “Knock, knock,” he announces, looking around the room and only noticing Minghao there, phone to his ear.

“—day? Okay, sure. It’s a date,” Minghao says into his phone, turning towards the door when he notices Junhui entering. “Uh, I have to go. Okay. See you.” 

Junhui takes a shaky inhale, swallowing his hopes down. He shifts his weight between his feet before settling on leaning his elbow on the doorknob. “Hi uh, am I interrupting?”

Minghao quickly puts his phone down on his desk, hands tapping away at his knees. “No, of course not. Can I help you with something?” He smiles, prim and polite.

Right, the reason Junhui came here. He thinks fast. “Yeah um, I was wondering if it’d be okay to ask if you could text me” —he takes a quick breath— “when you’re editing my photos. I kind of wanted to watch this time.” Junhui thinks his heart is about to go into panic mode, how stupidly lame his request must sound and how Minghao will just see right through him. He shouldn’t have tried this.

To his surprise, Minghao’s features soften and he almost looks like he’s about to start giggling, but he doesn’t. “Did you become more of a perfectionist when you were in China? Oversee how your face gets edited before it goes out?” It’s teasing, light, to Junhui’s relief.

“Must be a weird habit I picked up,” he replies, offering a coy shrug. “So is it okay?” 

Minghao’s bottom lip goes into his mouth a few times, running under his teeth while he looks between Junhui and his computer screen. “Yeah. That’s okay. So I’ll text you?”

Junhui nods, heart still selfish and desperately clinging onto things he shouldn’t be, hope of something that doesn’t exist anymore. “Yeah, please.”

+++

“You’re going out with Seungkwan-ah?” Junhwi prods more than outright asks when the server leaves the table at the restaurant he picked out for their lunch. He also starts looking around, as if waiting for something and eventually pouts. 

Hansol blinks up at him, not sure how he could immediately tell. “Uh, yeah,” he says, slightly thrown off. He manages to quickly compose himself. “Before the holiday. I wanted to tell you so I could thank you.”

“Thank me?” Junhwi asks, drinking down his water. “What for?”

“I was only able to really talk to him because he’s such a big fan of yours.”

Junhwi bites back a chuckle. “I don’t know how much that actually has to do with me though.”

“You agreed to meet him for me when you didn’t have to. And you gave me that autograph so I could ask him out,” Hansol insists. 

Junhwi’s head dips down but his eyes flicker up at him. “That was part of an exchange. Didn’t you know?”

“Exchange?”

“We had a deal, kid. Nothing in life is free. I thought you knew that.” 

Hansol’s face settles into a confused pout, slightly hurt. Why are _both_ Myungho and Junhwi falling back to their old selves? “Oh. What do you want in return?”

Junhwi starts laughing, leaning back in his seat and head tossing back. When he recovers, Hansol’s face still hasn’t changed. “Hansollie, I was kidding!” he almost sings. “I did that for you because I’m adopting you, remember? I’m glad you and Seungkwannie are together, you seemed to really like him. Just remember what I told you.” 

Hansol’s head tilts. “Take good care of him?”

Junhwi hums an affirmative as he looks back down at the table, taking another sip of water. He props his elbow on the table, leaning his chin in his hand. His eyes look particularly wistful, the same look he’s seen Myungho’s eyes wearing before. Like he’s been thinking about something for far too long, holding onto whatever it is, fragile and precious.

“Hyung?” Hansol broaches, sounding tentative.

“Yes?” 

“Did something happen with you and Myungho-hyung?”

Myungho had informed Hansol that Chan was looking for him yesterday but one of his shoots had run a little long and he ended up grabbing a sandwich on his own from the cafeteria. He texted Chan to let him know but Chan had said it wasn’t a problem. That’s all he knows. 

Junhwi blinks, looking back up at him. “Not since we last spoke, Hansollie.”

Hansol watches, still worried. He knows he can’t ask what Junhwi decided or thought about so he picks something else instead, “Was Myungho-hyung always stubborn?” 

Junhwi tilts his head, eyes going back to his water glass. “Very much so. Once he decided something, he tended to stick with it until the end. At least… anyway.”

Hansol stares at him, an odd feeling radiating into his heart, a squeeze that tells him that he’s only understanding half of what Junhwi’s saying to him. 

“Have you told Myungho? About you and Seungkwannie?” Junhwi gently prompts. 

“Uh, not yet,” Hansol says, shifting in his seat a little. “I didn’t get to ask Seungkwan who he’s okay with knowing yet. And he’s really attached to Myungho-hyung so I didn’t want to tell hyung without him.”

Junhwi mutely nods. 

Hansol looks down at his empty plate, chuckling to himself. “Actually, Seungkwan might be holding a grudge since he was so upset at being the last to know about Myungho-hyung’s relationship _with you._ ”

“Why would _that_ matter?” Junhwi asks, chuckling a little in disbelief.

Hansol waves a dismissive hand around. “Something about Myungho-hyung being one of his favorite hyungs for years and you being one of his favorite actors,” he answers quickly, closing his eyes and shaking his head in very minute motions. “It’s a whole thing, we don’t have to get into it.”

Junhwi hums a fond noise, smiling. “Tell Seungkwan-ah he shouldn’t take it personally. Myungho was always like that. Stubborn and secretive.”

Hansol tilts his head. “Even with you?”

Junhwi shrugs, sighing and leaning back in his seat. He tugs at the bottom of his sweater, fingers playing with the ends. “Not always, but it happened. It was annoying at times but that’s how he was. I learned to accept it.” He puts his hand back on the table. “You should probably let him know soon, though. He _is_ your boss, after all.”

“I’m a bit worried, considering how hyung’s been acting lately,” Hansol comments, trying to be careful. “But I also don’t want to let hyung know before Seungkwan’s okay with it, you know?”

Junhwi nods. “Yeah. I know.”

Hansol watches as Junhwi falls into silence again, the same wistful look from earlier back on his face as he looks at his water glass. There’s always something about it that makes Hansol’s heart want to reach out and help him somehow. “What are you thinking about, hyung?”

Junhwi’s eyes snap back to him. “Nothing, Hansollie. Don’t worry about me,” he says, smiling politely for him.

Hansol frowns. Junhwi’s eyes aren’t reflecting the smile. “Did you get to talk to Myungho-hyung yet? I can totally get out of the studio whenever you need me to,” he offers, hopeful. 

“It’s okay, Hansollie,” Junhui says again, shaking his head. 

He thinks that Junhwi is in the middle of something; a series of strings being pulled tight, wound around too many things over and over, taut and delicate. Like the smallest breath could make it shatter, fall apart. Hansol wonders where everything will land when it finally does.

*****

_Junhui seems lighter after meeting Zhoumi._

_Specifically, Junhui doesn’t seem upset or stressed when he comes back from an acting session anymore. Instead, he gushes about how much fun Zhoumi is as a mentor, how Zhoumi also speaks Cantonese, how Zhoumi let Junhui start calling him gēge almost right away, how Zhoumi helps Junhui relax better while helping him prepare for auditions._

_It gets to the point that, while editing some pictures at Junhui’s dining table again, Minghao grunts out an annoyed, “Jun-ah, I know he’s really cool and a nice sunbae and everything. But if you keep talking about him, I’m_ actually _going to get jealous.”_

_And Junhui seems to think he’s real cute, giggling and then diving his head right at the side of Minghao’s neck to nip at it while muttering a few pout-filled apologies, complete with cutesy nicknames._

_Minghao is nothing if not petty, so he remains huffy. Enough so that Junhui makes his way to his ear, trailing small kisses along the way. Minghao begrudgingly forgives him when Junhui tugs at his earlobe with his teeth and whispers a few offers of how he can make it up to him. All of them result in being pushed onto Junhui’s bed and Minghao can take his pick._

_So Minghao lets it go and Junhui doesn’t gush about Zhoumi anymore._

_Although the next morning happens to be another where Wonwoo decides to show up, already used to Minghao’s presence there. He doesn’t comment on their activities, just sits with Minghao at Junhui’s table and asks about life while warming up another plate of leftovers. It’s pleasant. Wonwoo’s always friendly with him, offering to go see a movie or two with Minghao, even without Junhui._

_Minghao agrees, ignoring his head throbbing at him how it’s everything he wished his situation with Mingyu was._

_+++_

_Minghao doesn’t see Junhui much for the next few weeks._

_Junhui gets caught up in rehearsals and sessions with Zhoumi, along with going to meals with his acting seniors afterwards for bonding purposes, while Minghao gets caught up in his own shoots and his work with the styling departments. Mostly because, ever since his argument with Jieqiong, she had challenged him by saying if he could do better, he should help out. Minghao said yes._

_However, Junhui had felt bad about their time apart, especially when he got another commercial and a bit part in a drama, and started sending selfies again while pouting for Minghao to return the favor. Minghao does notice the familiar gifted triangular earring in each of the selfies Junhui sends him, his own heart tingling that Junhui still values it to wear it in their time apart._

_Junhui had also asked if Minghao would want to come along to his outings with the acting seniors but Minghao refused, saying that it’s better for Junhui to bond with them without dragging his boyfriend in, even if he is slightly annoyed he hasn’t met the manga-looking acting senior yet._

‘[I don’t mind, Junhui, really!]’ _he had texted, which is true. He understands that these are just things they both have to do, even if he does miss Junhui in the meanwhile._

_Since he isn’t able to spend time with Junhui, however, Minghao spends time with Soonyoung (who sadly informs Minghao that he prefers Junhui now) and Wonwoo, and is resigned to staying at his own apartment. It starts feeling weird, unsure if Mingyu really wants him around there or not, if he’s in some sort of exile. Mingyu will say it’s okay but then go around and still have a problem with him, which Minghao doesn’t understand. Mingyu doesn’t seem to mind that Minghao’s spending more time there, though. And Minghao doesn’t see Eunwoo hanging around as much anymore._

_“We should go on a date,” Junuhi says as he surprises Mingaho at the end of a shoot almost three weeks later. He again presses forward on his toes, hands clasped behind his back._

_Minghao lifts a brow. “You’re asking me out on a date?”_

_“Yes,” Junhui says firmly. He smirks and gestures a thumb over his shoulder. “I bet my friend over there five thousand won that you’d go out with me.”_

_Minghao looks over Junhui’s shoulder and sees Jisoo, far off near the wall, studiously on his phone, disinterested and likely can’t hear them anyway. “Hm, I don’t know,” he muses, focusing back on Junhui, and catching on to the game. “I have a boyfriend. I don’t think he’d appreciate me going on dates with other people.”_

_Despite his smirk, Junhui slumps in exaggerated disappointment. “Oh. He must be like, super smart and good-looking, right?”_

_Minghao does his best not to laugh, drawing his lips together briefly and shrugs. “He’s okay.”_

_Junhui’s mouth opens and his tongue pokes at the inside of his cheek, turning his head away. After he finishes huffing out a breath like he’s offended, he says, “Are you going out on a date with your boyfriend this weekend then?”_

_“Hm, it depends. I don’t know what he wants to do.”_

_“What if it’s a surprise?”_

_Minghao purses his lips. “Then I guess I’m going on a surprise date with my boyfriend.”_

_Junhui brightens. “Great. I think he’s picking you up on Saturday at 17:00.”_

_Minghao checks his watch for no particular reason. “Hm, I guess he is.”_

_Junhui breaks and starts laughing, walking closer to wrap Minghao up in a hug that he reciprocates with a few giggles. Junhui is silent, just letting them stay like that for a while, being in each other’s space, taking in the other’s presence. Minghao feels his breathing slow, trying to fill his lungs with the warmth and comfort that is Junhui._

_“You_ were _talking about me, right?” Junhui eventually asks. “You don’t have any other boyfriends I should know about?”_

_“Hm, what if I have other boyfriends but you shouldn’t know about them?”_

_Minghao finds himself shoved off of Junhui, the older yelling out a whiny, “Oh my god, shut up!”_

_In an attempt to pacify him, Minghao cups his hands around Junhui’s face. “I don’t have any other boyfriends, Jun-ah. It’s just you, okay?”_

_Junhui pauses, eyes darting along Minghao’s face. “So you think I’m_ just okay?” 

_Minghao’s brow furrows as he registers what Junhui’s referring to. It’s not fast enough as Junhui pulls away from Minghao’s hold, stomping his way back over to Jisoo. Minghao hastily follows, trying to pull at Junhui’s arm._

_“Shua-hyung, we’re leaving! Leave Minghao behind. He can find his own way home.”_

_Jisoo looks up from his phone, eyeing them. “You guys finally got into a fight?”_

_“Jun-ah, I thought we were just playing!” Minghao tries. “You already know you’re good-looking.”_

_Junhui stops in front of Jisoo, arms folded and looking at his manager, raising a brow expectantly._

_Jisoo looks between them again and starts laughing._

_+++_

_Junhui’s surprise seemed to be that he wanted to take Minghao to a beach at sunset._

_Specifically Muchangpo beach. In the middle of March. It’s slightly chilly and it gives Minghao an excuse to coordinate windbreaker outfits, even if Junhui had insisted on another hoodie. With a trench coat._

_“Aren’t you worried about being seen? I thought that’s why we had to hide and do mostly indoor dates? Keep you away from dating news?” Minghao asks when they get out of the car._

_“It’ll be nighttime soon,” Junhui replies, shrugging as he reaches for Minghao’s hand again and gesturing at the watercolor sky. “And… I don’t really care, people can see. It’s not like I’m ashamed of you.”_

_“Even if they write articles?”_

_“Then I’ll ask Seungcheol-hyung to release a statement about me and my non-celebrity boyfriend. And if that doesn’t work, I’ll ask Director Jungsoo-nim. I don’t talk to him much but Heechullie-hyung’s close with him, he can help me.”_

_“You’ve really thought about this,” Minghao realizes aloud._

_Junhui’s shoulder lifts, nonchalant. “I’ve felt bad we couldn’t really go on normal dates and we’ve both been busy lately. You’ve been really understanding the whole time so if I get spotted with you on one normal date, so be it.” He smiles, pure and warm and beautiful._

_Minghao still worries, gnawing at his bottom lip and looking around for other people. It really isn’t as crowded as it would normally be. There’s still the fear of being discreet instilled in him, however._

_Junhui chuckles and brushes some strands from Minghao’s eye. “[It’s just a beach, HaoHao. I’m okay with whatever happens, as long as I’m with you. I just wanted to go somewhere nice together.]” He looks around. “[Besides, everyone will be too distracted by their own activities to notice us. And I figured you’d want to take pictures here? The scenery’s super pretty? Right up your alley?]”_

_So Minghao hesitantly nods and takes his camera out of his bag. He focuses on taking photos of the ocean with the limited moonlight, then of the sky. He does manage to get some shots of a flustered Junhui, who eventually returns the favor. They manage to stay out of people’s paths for the most part._

_Further into the night, they find themselves sitting together on the sand and watching the moon in the dark sky, reflected on the equally dark ocean waves. Junhui had gotten colder and tugged his hood over his head, patting his ears._

_Minghao takes a plethora of pictures, not wanting to waste the sight. “It’s really breathtaking, isn't it?” he asks as he lowers his camera, still staring at how brightly the moon shines in the sky, light dancing and bouncing off the ripples in the water._

_“Yeah, it is.”_

_Minghao turns to see Junhui staring directly at him. Part of him wants to be surprised that Junhui would do something corny like that but at the same time, Minghao feels like he’s come to accept it. His lips come together in a tight, squished smile, mostly out of embarrassment, eyes blinking away._

_“[HaoHao?]”_

_“Yeah?”_

_Junhui takes a deep breath. “[I know I’ve been gone a bunch because of filming and doing stuff with Zhoumi-gē and the other actors. And you said you’re okay with it.]”_

_Minghao hums and nods once. “[I am. I’m not lying about that, if that’s what you’re worried about.]”_

_“It’s just,” Junhui starts, voice wavering. His eyes scan over Minghao’s face, unable to settle. “You’ll tell me the second that you’re not, right? Like the second you weren’t okay with something?”_

_Minghao frowns. “Of course I will. Where is this coming from?”_

_Junhui shifts, tucking his knees close to himself and leaning his chin on them. “I know you close in on yourself a lot. I know you say you’re okay with Mingyu but you’re still not. I don’t… want you to have to do that. Even if I’m gone a lot, I want you to still talk to me so we can figure it out. I don’t want to lose you.”_

_“[Junhui,]” Minghao starts with a small sigh, reaching for his hands, “[I know how filming works. I know the work and the hours that are involved. I know how hard you’ve been working and I know how much you want to do these things. I’ll understand.]”_

_Junhui sucks in a small breath through his teeth, turning his head away slightly. His eyes scrunch and Minghao is worried he’s going to cry._

_Minghao puts a soothing hand on Junhui’s shoulder. “[I will tell you when something you do bothers me. When have I not?]” he asks, giggling and trying to rub the crook of Junhui’s neck. “[Don’t worry about me.]”_

_“[I love you.]”_

_The way Junhui says it this time is firmer, stronger, full of more conviction. Far different from the rushed breathy hormone-induced giggles he had when they had first said it to each other._

_Minghao’s mouth parts, about to answer that he knows and he loves Junhui too._

_But Junhui seems insistent. “I’m in love with y—”_

_Minghao grabs the back of Junhui’s neck and presses their lips together in another kiss, slow and soft and sweet. He knows the rest. Minghao knows if he lets Junhui finish his sentence, especially while they’re like this, they’ll both end up crying._

_Junhui makes a small whine, hands snaking around Minghao’s waist as his tongue pushes into Minghao’s mouth but Minghao has no complaints. All he can think about is kissing Junhui and letting Junhui kiss him and just_ Junhui Junhui Junhui.

_Minghao doesn’t think he’s ever been this in love before, this willing to be consumed by another person, and he hopes he never will again. He sighs into Junhui’s mouth, arms going around Junhui’s neck. Minghao knows he doesn’t have a reason to be scared, because Junhui kisses him like he’s not going to let Minghao go, like he’s still precious._

_He breaks the kiss, watching Junhui’s eyes with all the love and affection he can muster, panting into Junhui’s air. He slides both his hands to gingerly cup Junhui’s cheeks. “[You’re not going to lose me, Wen Junhui. Okay?]” He tries to sound firm when he asks, even as he presses their foreheads together._

_He hopes Junhui can tell that he loves him, even if he can't say it right now without crying. But he hopes Junhui can sort of tell that too. He wants to say it’s because he’s not exactly sentimental, but his profession and his hobbies would certainly indicate otherwise. He’s pretty sure Junhui knows though._

_He has to._

*****

The weekend comes and it sinks in that it’s been an embarrassingly long while since Minghao’s been on a date. Like a proper, into-the-evening, romantic kind of date. Well, Minghao is hoping it’s intended to be romantic.

_Are you really though?_

Minghao stares at his closet, hand moving through hangers and trying to figure out what he wants to wear. He shakes his head, hand drifting towards the yellow graphic t-shirt and figuring he can pop a bomber jacket over it. It doesn’t feel like a trench coat type of date. 

As Minghao fixes his earrings and rings on his fingers, he tells himself this is easy, an old routine slowly coming back. He spends an inordinate amount of time styling his hair, fidgeting over his earrings, tugging at how his shirt is deftly French tucked into his jeans, rotating the rings decorating his fingers, watching his reflection. 

This is easy, he tells himself again. As he gathers up his phone and his keys to put in his bag, he wonders if he should be feeling something else. His heart remains as listlessly steady as it has before.

He waits at the mall like they’d agreed, a neutral spot, at a fountain in the middle. Minghao wants to think this guy’s being clever, making him wait for him where they met. Then again, he doesn’t know much about him.

After a few minutes of Minghao looking around and checking his watch, he wonders if this is planned. To make Minghao worry, to think about him a bit more, linger just a little longer in his mind. But Minghao also tells himself he needs to stop making excuses based on nothing in order to reject the possibility of something and return to a love that no longer exists.

“[Minghao!]” 

He turns to see his date, walking up in distressed black jeans, a thin white hoodie and a navy denim jacket. Minghao hates the fact that the first strings of thought he has connect his style with someone he’s supposed to be forgetting. 

“[Yixing.]” Minghao greets, pausing when Yixing’s head quirks in some mixture of surprised amusement. “[Yixing-gē,]” he corrects, attempting to laugh it off. “You really kept me waiting, huh?” 

Yixing shrugs, casual, hands slipping into his hoodie pockets. “Guess that makes us even. Took you a while to call. I was starting to think you didn’t actually like me.”

Minghao gulps, tries to compose himself as elegantly as he can. “Sorry about that. I’ve been busy.”

Yixing shrugs, smirking. “I don’t mind. You’re here now. Besides, you can tell me all about it over dinner.”

Dinner with Yixing goes well, Minghao decides. He’s smart, charming, funny, and Minghao tries not to let his mind wander when Yixing mentions dabbling in acting with a theatre group a couple blocks away. 

“I thought you were cute and you seemed interesting,” Yixing answers when Minghao asks why Yixing gave him his number, and Minghao isn’t sure how much he believes him. He recalls himself being stiffly awkward at the mall while flirting due to Jungkook’s insistence. It does confirm the achingly familiar look Minghao thought he saw in his eyes, that he really was itching to call Minghao cute.

Yixing asks Minghao about what he does, why he does it, and Minghao can tell he’s genuinely interested in Minghao's answers. He tells stories about how he relates to the creative struggles Minghao has sometimes since he’s currently working as a director.

As Yixing walks Minghao home, he bumps shoulders a few times. It starts when Yixing comments on what he thinks is a large pineapple in someone’s garden. The shoulder bumps aren’t enough to be annoying, but it’s coy, especially when Minghao tries teasing him about the pineapple. 

When they get to the front of Minghao’s building, Yixing stops to face him, eyes lingering expectantly, and a hesitant question waiting.

Minghao fidgets with the zipper of his jacket. “Well, I had a nice time tonight,” he says, hoping he doesn’t sound too stiff.

“Me too.” Yixing’s hands go in his pockets, smiling brightly and not helped at all by the streetlight lit up a few metres behind him. “We should do this again sometime.” 

Minghao feels his eyes fluttering in a series of blinks. “Yeah, that’d be—” Minghao registers the press on his lips before the hand on his shoulder. It’s soft, gentle as Yixing’s head angles a bit more, a small nibble at his lip before he pulls back, smiling. 

“[Goodnight,]” he says gently, dipping his head a little. “[I’ll call you.]” 

Minghao nods a few times to himself, pressing his lips together. “[I’ll be waiting,]” he replies politely, telling himself it’s the truth.

When Yixing disappears down the street, Minghao once again asks his heart if anything is there. 

He sighs, making his way back to his apartment. His head tells him that Yixing is smart and good-looking and charming and totally into him. Nothing is wrong with him. 

His heart, however, is just as stubborn as he is because it still only knows one word, pulsing against the confines of his chest. 

Once he closes the door, he leans himself against it, letting out another sigh as he looks into his apartment. He wonders how many times he has to listen to his head.

+++

“This is what you wanted to do as a date?” Hansol asks, looking around as he makes his way to Seungkwan’s couch. 

“Yes!” Seungkwan chirps happily, bringing over two glasses of hallabong juice. Hansol chuckles at the sight of them when Seungkwan settles them on the coffee table in front. He doesn’t think he has to resort to chugging them down this time. 

After their dinner at the restaurant with Junhwi where Seungkwan had agreed to be his boyfriend, they hadn’t had a chance to go on a date together due to the holidays. Seungkwan left for Jeju Island and Hansol spent time with his family. He is, however, surprised that Seungkwan’s choice of date is to sit in his apartment and watch Junhwi’s projects some more. 

Apparently all meeting Junhwi did was give Seungkwan even more excitement over his projects, something Hansol notes when he spots the autographed picture he gave Seungkwan framed in acrylic next to the TV. Hansol thinks it’s cute. 

They’d finished the twenty-six episode drama a long time ago and Seungkwan has since moved on to showing him other projects. It seemed that Seungkwan’s roommate was out again and Seungkwan had waved it off by saying his roommate is frequently out since he spends more time teaching than he is at home. Hansol doesn’t complain. 

Hansol also doesn’t complain when Seungkwan hugs his arm and leans his head on his shoulder. He chances holding Seungkwan’s hand, content when he doesn’t object or move away.

Junhwi’s acting is good, Hansol thinks. It feels weird seeing Junhwi playing out a role on screen after spending so much time with him and getting to know him. At first, all he knew about Junhwi was that he was the only thing that got any sort of rise out of Myungho when mentioned, a ghost Hansol never got to see. 

Then he came to know Junhwi as the hyung with odd nicknaming whims, floating about where the only thing Hansol really knows how to read off him is that he is just as haunted by Myungho as Myungho was by him. 

“Hansol, what’s wrong?” Seungkwan asks, sitting up off his shoulder to look at him.

Hansol shakes his head. “What do you mean?”

Seungkwan nods down towards their hands between them. “You’re kind of about to crush my hand.”

Hansol reflexively lets go, almost as a flinch, and he starts wiping his hand on his jeans, feeling guilty at the possibility of sweating too much against Seungkwan’s hand. 

Seungkwan clicks his tongue and grabs Hansol’s hand again, intertwining their fingers this time. “I didn’t say let go. I just meant that I would like having all bones in there fully functional for as long as I can,” he reprimands with a slight giggle. “What are you thinking about?” 

Hansol glances at the hallabong juice. He’s not seriously considering it again but Seungkwan catches on and slides the juice further away from him on the table. “Jun-hyung’s just seemed pretty down lately. I was thinking it had to do with Myungho-hyung.”

Seungkwan’s head leans back in an exaggerated nod of what Hansol is assuming is either realization or understanding. “You saw something? What do you know?”

Hansol chuckles, shaking his head. “I’m worried about Jun-hyung as a hyung, not to gossip.”

Seungkwan purses his lips, looking around innocently. “Who’s gossiping? I’m just asking why you’re trying to destroy my hand.”

Hansol rolls his eyes, still smiling. “Jun-hyung seemed worried about us when I told him. I was wondering if it had something to do with Myungho-hyung or how they broke up.”

“Hm.” Seungkwan eyes him, seriously considering. “Then we don’t break up.”

Hansol laughs, head bouncing back against the couch. “I don’t think that’s how it works.”

“Sure, it is!” Seungkwan insists, beaming. “I’ve decided it just now.”

“You decided that on your own?”

“Yep!” Seungkwan says again, thumb idly brushing against the back of Hansol’s hand. “You’re my boyfriend so as long as we always talk to each other, like things that scare us or make us uncomfortable, it’ll be fine. We’ll trust each other. Deal?”

Hansol stares at him, wondering where he was getting his optimism. Hansol also thinks about the last time he made a deal, the one with Junhwi and how that turned out. But he thinks, with Seungkwan, it’ll be okay. He quickly kisses Seungkwan’s cheek. “Deal.”

+++

  
  


When Minghao first starts trying to work on the files from Junhui’s last shoot, he doesn’t know how to go about it.

He gets self-conscious, caught up in the details of whether he should just edit whenever he has time or ask when Junhui’s available since Junhui said he did want to watch. Or would it be weird to move his editing schedule around Junhui’s? Would it be too obvious if he did that? He also realizes he’ll possibly be alone with Junhui, attention and focused on him, something he hasn’t truly had since their talk. 

He takes a deep breath and pulls out his phone, opening it to Junhui’s contact card. Minghao doesn’t know if it’s embarrassing, that Junhui’s contact picture is the same one from years ago: Junhui brushing hair away from his forehead while Minghao lay on the floor to take the picture, still under the same _‘[Jun-gē]’_ nickname. 

Minghao had briefly changed it once, for about four months, to a selfie of himself with a sleeping Junhui. After the breakup, he changed it back, unsure what else to change it to. He wasn’t going to use it anyway so he didn’t overthink it. But he also couldn’t bring himself to delete it.

After an absurdly long time, he types in a message. _‘I’m editing your photos now. Did you still want to come watch?’_ He stops himself from offering to edit them at another time that’s more convenient for Junhui. 

And embarrassingly, Minghao watches the screen until ‘1’ next to the message bubble disappears. 

_‘Ahh!! Yes, okay! Just give me like 6 min!!’_ Junhui sends back with his typical array of expressive emojis. He’s picked three screaming ones this time. 

“Hyung, you’re smiling at your phone,” Hansol’s voice notes from his side. “Are you flirting with someone?” 

Minghao instinctively sits upright in his chair, trying to push the smile away and glare Hansol down. “No.”

“If you say you’re looking at cute animals instead, you know I’m going to ask you to show me,” Hansol continues, unperturbed. 

“Hansol-ah,” Minghao starts in his strictest lecturing voice. Hansol quirks his head to the side with a slight smirk, raising his brows, waiting. Minghao had no intention of finishing this sentence, he doesn’t know how. Hansol has been getting too bold lately and Minghao isn’t sure how to fight it. He sighs and turns back to his computer screen, resting his chin in his palm, elbow propped on the desk. 

Hansol chuckles, pushing on his knees to stand up with a heavy sigh that Minghao thinks is unbefitting for his young age. “Well, I have a shoot downstairs soon. You gonna be okay here on your own?”

Minghao bites back a chuckle, it comes out as a slightly derisive puff instead. “Shouldn’t that be my line to you?”

Hansol shrugs, picking up SD card cases. His grin is still stretching his face. “Yeah, but I wanted to try it just once,” he says as he starts heading towards the door. “See you.”

As he leaves, Minghao hears Hansol exclaim a “Oh!” just outside the door. The next thing Minghao knows, Junhui is in the doorway, slightly out of breath.

“You didn’t start yet, did you?”

Minghao giggles. “It’s not a movie or anything, it’s not like you’ll miss much even if I did.” He nods towards the to-go coffee cups in Junhui's hands. “What’s that?” 

Junhui holds one out towards Minghao. “Tea. I got it from the cafeteria.”

“What kind?” Minghao asks cautiously, taking it. 

“Camomile,” Junhui replies with a slight sigh, walking towards Hansol’s chair and seats himself in it. Watching Junhui walk his way over towards Minghao in the chair shouldn’t have looked as awkwardly amusing as it does, long limbs waddling about like an awkward crab. “Would the flavor really stop you from drinking it though?” he asks, sipping at his own cup. 

“No, I guess not,” Minghao muses, smirking as he takes a sip. At least Junhui wasn’t tricking him about the flavor. “Thanks.”

Junhui spins in the chair so the back is against his left shoulder. “No problem.”

“Is this why you were late?”

“Tch, I thought you said it wouldn’t matter if I came after you started. So there _is_ no late, is there?”

“What if I managed to finish editing the entire thing in six minutes?”

“Hm, then I brought this tea for nothing and Seungcheol-hyung is severely underpaying you.”

Minghao hums, smiling. “You know I’m just kidding with you?”

Junhui sighs, flopping his head against the back of the chair. “Yeah, but if I don’t go along with it, who else will?” he says with another dramatic sigh, causing Minghao to let out a few giggles. “Does Hansollie?”

Minghao freezes, gaze snapping away from Junhui. “Uh?”

“Does Hansollie go along with you while you’re kidding, I mean?” Junhui tries again in more of a gentle prodding. 

Minghao turns to his computer, looking for the files to load up. “He’s been starting to lately, I think. Must’ve picked it up from someone.”

Junhui chuckles. “If you’re expecting me to apologize, you’re about to be disappointed.”

“Are you saying you’re the culprit?”

Junhui shrugs. “You sounded like you were accusing me. But I’m a good influence on Hansollie, I assure you.”

Minghao hums, sipping at his tea again. He’s not supposed to know, he reminds himself, he promised Chan. He can’t say anything yet. “I believe you.” He opens the first file.

Minghao starts editing the picture, a familiar routine he’s able to slip back into. Clicking and adjusting exposure and lighting levels, saving and moving onto the next one without thinking too much about it.

“Your technique changed.”

Minghao looks back at Junhui, face blank. “Huh?”

Junhui leans forward. “You didn’t used to edit like that,” he says, glancing from the screen to Minghao’s eyes. “Not that it’s a bad thing, I just… I just thought it was interesting.”

Minghao nods, turning back to the screen. “Yeah, I figured out a faster way to do it. Jeonghannie-hyung always pressing deadlines helped. It still looks good?”

There are a few seconds before Junhui softly says, “Yeah, it does.”

Minghao nods again without looking back, continuing his work on the picture. 

“Hao?”

“Jun-ah?” Minghao calls back, curious at the name choice. He wonders what he did to earn that back, heart foolishly fluttering at the hopes of keeping it. 

Junhui clears his throat. “Your phone is going off,” he says, gesturing to the buzzing device on the table in front of him. 

Minghao takes his eyes away from his computer screen and glances at his phone on the desk. When he looks at Junhui, he’s very decidedly not looking at him or the device, focusing on a spot on the wall next to Minghao’s monitor. Minghao picks his phone up to check it. 

_‘Hey!’ ‘I know I said I was going to call but I figured I’d text first.’ ‘It’s about our next date.’ ‘I can pick you up at 20:00 since I know where your building is now.’_

Yixing.

Minghao stares at his screen, chuckling out of nervousness. He doesn’t know how to answer, thumbs hovering in anxious circles. He taps a few letters out before backspacing all of it. He doesn’t know how many times this happens until Junhui suddenly stands up.

“Are you done?” he asks.

Minghao freezes, suddenly self-conscious at the amount of time he’s spending trying to answer a series of simple texts. When Minghao looks, Junhui is nodding down at the to-go cup in front of Minghao on the desk. He clears his throat. “Oh, um, yeah. Thanks.” He hands the empty cup to Junhui, who lightly takes it, along with his own, to the trash bin.

“I have to ask Shua-hyung about something. We can finish up the rest of the photos another time,” Junhui says, smile tight on his lips as he pushes Hansol’s chair back to his desk. “Excuse me.” 

He’s gone before Minghao can say anything.

Minghao doesn’t know what he answered Yixing with, if he even answered at all.

*****

_…_

*****

Mingyu sends Wonwoo another file to look at. And it’s another video of Mingyu’s manager, the same footage as before, just edited differently to the same song. 

_‘You could probably do the zooms a bit tighter.’_ Wonwoo texts back. _‘What was your manager’s name again?’_

 _‘I’m not telling you.’_ is Mingyu’s quick reply.

_‘Why not?’_

Mingyu sends a huffy sticker. _‘Why is it important?’_

_‘You keep using footage of him, I feel rude calling him ‘Mingyu-ssi’s manager’ all the time.’_

Mingyu opens with a laughing emoji. _‘Go ahead and call him that. But I thought we were dropping formalities?’_

_‘We are. Except when it comes to your manager.’_

_‘If I tell you my manager’s name, he’ll suddenly appear and I don’t need that right now.’_

_‘Aren’t you always together anyways?’_

_‘Nah. If it’s lunch or if I’m doing a job, he disappears to chat with staff or get coffee or drinks or something. He’s actually been disappearing more lately.’_

_‘All the more reason for you to tell me his name. Gotta bring him back.’_ Wonwoo doesn’t know what he’s doing. 

_‘I’m waiting for you to realize I told you before. All you have to do is scroll up the chat history…’_ and Mingyu attaches an unamused sticker along with a few laughing characters. 

So Wonwoo scrolls up the chat history and finds when Mingyu introduced himself and his attached selfies with his manager coming up behind him. Then he sees it. 

_‘Oh, Seungkwan-ssi?’_

_‘…You weren’t supposed to type it back to me. You were just supposed to read it and remember it. Moon Junhwi gave me the impression you were smart.’_

_‘How was I supposed to know that? Smart doesn’t mean mind-reader, Kim Mingyu.’_

Mingyu doesn’t respond for a while and Wonwoo puts his phone down in the meantime. After about ten minutes, Wonwoo finally receives a reply.

It’s a screenshot of a call log, a seven-minute and seventeen second call with a contact named ‘Manager Boo.’ _‘My manager just called me. See what you did?’_

Wonwoo chuckles, sending a laughing sticker. _‘What did he want?’_

_‘Moon Junhwi wanted my number. My manager was asking if it was okay to give to him.’_

Wonwoo scoffs. _‘That’s not impressive. I’ve had Junnie’s number since we were teenagers.’_

 _‘I’m not trying to be impressive, I’m just telling you what my manager wanted because you asked.’_ And there are a couple of laughing stickers. 

Wonwoo rolls his eyes. _‘It’s a reflex. I’m used to people trying to brag about Junnie. So did you give it to him?’_

_‘Yeah, why not? Myungho almost ruined this for me and Junhwi-ssi is nice.’_

Wonwoo frowns. _‘Wait, Myungho? Seo Myungho?’_

_‘Yes. Why?’_

Wonwoo runs his bottom lip under his teeth nervously a few times. _‘Seo Myungho from the shoot? You know him?’_ He almost asks if Mingyu knew they used to date but feels that’s irrelevant. It feels like another line Junhui might not want him to touch. 

_‘Yes,’_ Mingyu sends again with more laughing characters. _‘Why, is that important?’_

Wonwoo nibbles at his lip again, thinking back to when Mingyu came over the other day, wondering again why Mingyu’s food seemed familiar. He shakes his head to himself. _‘No, just an odd coincidence.’_

_‘So Moon Junhwi trying to get my number isn’t impressive, what is?’_

_‘We’re back to that?’_

_‘Might as well. I’m curious now.’_ Wonwoo can somehow imagine Mingyu’s shrug there.

_‘Hmm. I was going to say when I think of something, I’ll let you know but I actually did think of something.’ ‘If you edit something that I don’t have any comment for.’_

Mingyu doesn’t reply for a few minutes. _‘Interesting.’_ he sends with a few laughing characters. _‘By the way, what’s your family name? It feels rude if I just say Wonwoo but I don’t know what the rest is. Are you Kim Wonwoo? Lee Wonwoo?’_

_‘I thought you said we met before? Did I not introduce myself with my full name?’_

Mingyu sends more laughing characters. _‘I said we spoke before. And no, you didn’t. You were quite rude. You know MY full name.’_

_‘You’re a model…your name is plastered on your work.’_

_‘What does that have to do with you being rude?’_

_‘I’m still older than you.’_

_‘I’m aware. You’re spending a lot of time being okay with being rude and not telling me your family name.’_

_‘Jeon. Jeon Wonwoo.’_

Mingyu takes another few minutes to reply. _‘Thank you.’_

Wonwoo puts his phone down, wondering why Mingyu is so frustrating and what Junhui would want Mingyu’s number for.

+++

The next time Junhui comes by to watch Minghao edit a few days later, some time before Halloween, he has a thick stack of bundled paper tucked under his arm, his hands still occupied with the two cups of tea. 

They’ve had to navigate through each of their schedules, between Junhui’s meetings and Minghao’s shoots with other clients. Minghao also tried to make sure it was a time where Hansol wasn’t in the studio so Junhui could use his seat.

 _And that’s the only reason,_ he tells himself, taking the cup from Junhui’s hand.

This time it’s oolong tea, which Minghao notices on the first sip. “You got a different flavor?” 

“Yeah,” Junhui says, chuckling a little in embarrassment, “I thought you’d want to try each flavor in the cafeteria so I wanted to rotate through them.”

Minghao hums, taking another sip. “That’s” _—sweet—_ “thoughtful, thank you. I think.” 

“I knew you’d notice but I didn’t know if you’d mind,” Junhui continues, settling in Hansol’s chair and plopping his bundled stack of paper in his lap. “I also get myself the flavor you had last since if you don’t complain, I figure it’s good.”

“So I’m your guinea pig?” Minghao challenges.

Junhui shrugs, smirking. “Tea connoisseur.” 

Minghao takes another sip, hoping to hide his own impending giggle this way. “I’ll take it.” He lowers the cup and nods towards the paper in Junhui’s lap. “What is that?”

“Uh?” Junhui looks down at it and runs his thumb along the side edges, mildly flipping the pages. “It’s a script for a drama Shua-hyung wants me to look over, see if I’d be interested.”

“What’s the summary?” Minghao prompts, hoping he can still nudge at that conversation. 

Junhui lets out an exaggerated sigh, leaning back. “From what I’ve been told, it’s another commentary on Korean society. Heavily dramatized. I think Shua-hyung’s pushing me to try the cocky, young socialite role. Probably gets morally knocked down a peg by his less-than-wealthy former childhood friend or something.”

“That’s how the script goes?”

“That’s what I’m _hoping,_ I haven't read it all yet,” Junhui answers, looking down and flipping through the pages again. “If not, then I don’t know,” he sings in a teasing unsure voice, grin stretching his face. 

Minghao lowers his cup, folding his other arm across himself as he leans back, crossing one leg over the other. “A big role in a Korean drama,” he comments in slight awe, “that’s what you’ve always wanted, isn’t it?”

Junhui looks back up at him, eyes flickering into something, dimming a little. His grin fades into a small smile that Minghao thinks feels oddly sad as his head tilts slightly. “Yeah. What I’ve always wanted.” He blinks a few times and clears his throat, leaning forward in his seat. “So, what do you think? About the role.”

“Me?” Minghao asks, surprised, stomach twisting a little.

Junhui looks at him, eyes full and steady. Minghao can’t tell what Junhui’s thinking; he can’t imagine what Junhui’s answer would be. “I trust your opinion,” is what he says, voice firm and earnest. “You have a good eye for these things. I uh, I wanted to go through a few lines with you?”

Minghao doesn’t know what to say. His heart is flooding with something he doesn’t understand, filling up until he has to remind himself to breathe. Junhui was particularly shy over performing scenes not around a director, even telling Wonwoo to get out one time Minghao was helping him practice. 

After everything, Junhui would still want his opinion on his work. He nods and Junhui’s posture straightens. He quickly flips back to a specific page, marked with a sticky note and a section highlighted off and hands it over. Minghao chuckles, he knows that means Junhui planned to use that section for an audition. 

Junhui running through his lines is firmer, more comfortable and confident than he’s seen when practicing with Junhui before. He’s clearer in how he delivers the lines, adapting quickly to Minghao’s suggestions and feedback. 

Minghao feels a sense of pride, glad he was able to see what Junhui had become, the result of all the sacrifices made. It’s mixed with another feeling, something that Minghao’s known the whole time. This is how they were meant to grow over the years, despite the distance, despite the stretch of separation between them. 

There’s a thump in Minghao’s chest and he realizes, with unsettling and unquestioning clarity, that he has closure. He doesn’t want the Junhui from three years ago, he’s successfully put aside the ties chaining him to their past. 

He doesn’t want the past back. He wants _this_ Junhui, the one in front of him. He wants another chance with this Junhui, to start again with him. New, better, stronger, he wants everything. 

For the first time in a long while, his heart, his mind and his body are all aligned, all in agreement.

 _“[Nobody’s ‘the one’, Minghao, and that’s okay,]”_ his mother used to say when he was growing up. _“[There is no ‘the one’ for anybody. What happens is you’ll meet a lot of people who would be point-sixes and point-sevens, maybe some point-eights and point-nines, until you find someone that you’re willing to round up. There is no ‘the one’ wandering around. You choose them.]”_

And as he’s looking at him now, the tragic part of Minghao’s heart fully believes that even if there is no ‘the one’ in anyone’s world, Junhui is still _it_ for him. Wen Junhui is the only one Minghao knows he would round up for. No matter where he is on the scale, at the end of everything, he’s it.

And Minghao’s already lost him. He wonders if he even ever had a chance with this Junhui. His heart knows a fool’s errand before his head could see it was there.

The paintings of yellow flowers are his. Junhui is not.

This isn’t one of Junhui’s movies. There is no happy ending here. 

+++

“So these are the last ones for this shoot, right?” Junhui asks, settling in his seat and sipping at his tea, still in the standard to-go coffee cups. He places one in front of Minghao and puts his bag behind him on the chair. 

Minghao nods, pulling up the file. When he tries the tea this time, he smiles, the familiar warm liquid moving down his throat. “They have lemon peppermint tea in the cafeteria?”

Junhui looks over at him. “Hm? No, I made this one.” He brandishes the thermos. “Is it okay?” 

Minghao nods, taking another sip. “It’s nice, thanks,” he says, trying to savor it, as if it’s the last thing Junhui will ever make for him. “So you made it this time, what’s the occasion?” 

Junhui tilts his head slightly, brow furrowing for a second, confused before he finally says, “I just felt like it, I guess.” 

Junhui doesn’t say anything while Minghao edits this time. For the hour or so Minghao edits Junhui’s pictures, Junhui quietly sits beside him. The only indications Minghao has that Junhui hasn’t fallen asleep is that he keeps seeing Junhui’s arm reaching for his tea and putting it back on the desk occasionally out of the corner of his eye.

When Minghao saves the last file and swivels his chair around, he sees Junhui taking a small black rectangular box from his bag, more slim than blocky, slightly larger than the size of his phone. Minghao curiously eyes it as Junhui’s eyes shift around and he holds the box against himself for a second. 

“[Junhui?]”

Junhui draws his lips together in his mouth before he catches Minghao’s gaze and holds out the box to him.

“What’s this?” Minghao asks, taking the box in his hands, small and delicate. The way Junhui regards it, however, makes it feel like it has more weight, more relevance. He grins to try to ease Junhui’s tense mood. “A last minute bribe for the photos? I cost more than that, you know.” 

Junhui has a nervous smile when he just nods and says, “Hao, just open it.” 

Minghao’s heart beats a little too fast at the familiarity, at the echo; enough that he can feel it running down through his fingertips. He’s slightly shaky as he pops the box open on its hinges, flooded with a weight of nostalgia. 

Inside the box is a silver bracelet, two bands of delicate silver mesh surrounding the clasp and a small silver sunflower at the bottom. The center of the sunflower is dyed yellow, the only color adorning the entire piece. Minghao’s eyes run over the entire thing far too many times and he slowly picks it up. “[Junhui, what is this?]” he breathes out, more seriously this time at his heart pounding against his chest.

Junhui licks his lips, one hand going to play with his earlobe. “[It’s your birthday. We never got to celebrate it before.]” He pauses and Minghao realizes why he sounds so stiff; they were broken up by then. “[I was supposed to give that to you then but I never got the chance. I thought it’d be a waste to get rid of it. It’s okay if you don’t like it, I just thought—]”

“[No!]” Minghao quickly objects. He lifts the sunflower closer to his face to inspect it, all the ridges and bumps and where the dye doesn’t quite hit all of the center. “[I love it. Thank you.]”

As Minghao slips the bracelet on his wrist, Junhui lets out a deep breath and stands up, grabbing both of their to-go cups and going over to the trash bin to toss them out. 

The longer Minghao looks at the bracelet, the more he wants to figure out what this is supposed to mean, if it really means anything at all. If it was Junhui holding some kind of lingering affection for their past, if it was something more substantial. 

Junhui held onto it this whole time, after all.

He looks up, about to ask Junhui _why_ and notices him leaning against the wall beside the bin, staring directly at him. Junhui’s gaze is intense, more so than before, steady and carrying something Minghao doesn’t dare let himself name. He doesn’t know the next time Junhui’s attention will be solely focused on him like this so Minghao doesn’t want to be the one to end it now.

He doesn’t want it to end, the magic spell encapsulating them, the one Minghao thought he lost during the joint shoot with Hansol, the one he thought he’d never be able to get back again. He wants it to stay. _Just a little bit longer._

Junhui’s mouth opens, about to say something. After a beat, he hesitates and reconsiders, shaking his head softly to himself, eyes finally diverting, and shrinks himself back further into the wall.

“What?” Minghao asks, desperation clawing at his throat at whatever words Junhui pushed down. 

“Nothing,” Junhui replies quietly, reconnecting their gazes. “It’s nothing.”

Minghao frowns, firmly shaking his head. “No, tell me. What is it?”

Junhui blinks a few times. “I uh.” He licks his lips, eyes moving around, unsure. He puffs out a small breath through his nose and smiles to himself, fond, wistful. “I was just, I was wondering when I lost you.” 

The way his voice cuts through the air is soft, but it still rumbles heavy against the edges of Minghao’s heart and sinks into his veins, disrupting the flow. He blinks, mouth going dry as it parts. 

******

_A few days after their evening beach date, Junhui texts Minghao to meet him up at the twenty-third floor when they’re about to go home._

_It’s unusual since neither of them regularly have any business to do up there. But once he steps out of the elevator, he spots Junhui and Jisoo in the lobby area, decorated with a long navy sofa along the wall with a small coffee table. Jisoo is talking to the woman behind the desk as she types away at her computer._

_Junhui spots him, brightening as he approaches and kisses Minghao’s forehead. “[HaoHao.] Before we leave, Siwon-hyungnim wants to see me in his office for a bit. Wait for me here?” he asks, holding Minghao’s hands._

_Minghao nods, looking around for where he wants to sit. “Sure. Go ahead.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look how much we got out of the way~ we're finally here, folks
> 
> Credit for Minghao's mom's speech in his segment near the end goes [here.](https://youtu.be/qNsact6oVj8?t=3387)
> 
> for some reason, this chapter took a lot out of me so I'm gonna take a bit of a break for a while ^^; shouldn't be too long but it gives people extra time to get the last of the theories in since you can probably tell what's going to happen next 
> 
> please feel free to scream at me on [twt ](https://twitter.com/paishhao)and [cc](https://curiouscat.qa/paishhao)


	14. In this fragile fantasy; to you, hold on me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it might help to reread the previous chapters a bit first.
> 
> [Mandarin]  
> \+ Yongsun's Mandarin name is Rongxian.
> 
> Chapter title is from Hold On Me by Nam Woohyun

_Junhui goes into Siwon’s office with Jisoo after seemingly getting an okay from the lady at the desk that Minghao is assuming is the receptionist. In the meanwhile, Minghao is left to wait in the lobby, sitting on the navy sofa by the wall._

_If Minghao’s being honest, the entire lobby —and by extension, Siwon’s office and maybe the whole floor itself— feels like it came out of a high class business catalogue. It’s very minimalistic and spacious, palette filled with too much navy and gray for Minghao’s liking. He wondered if Siwon really did double as a politician on the side._

_For the first ten minutes, Minghao entertains himself by figuring out the best lighting to take selfies and then taking several, ignoring the receptionist’s occasional glances that eventually die off after the first ten minutes anyway. He considers making small talk with her but she appears so steadfastly absorbed in typing and watching her screen that Minghao decides against it._

_When a little over thirty minutes have gone by and Minghao is sick of glancing at that off-white door, Junhui finally emerges, a happy yet stunned look on his face. Meanwhile, Jisoo is handling what appears to be last-minute pleasantries with Siwon in the doorway as they shuffle out. When Minghao looks at the Head Director, he still seems like an eager uncle, waving the pair off with a hand on his hips and that same wide grin._

_Junhui approaches Minghao, face still stuck in a euphoric stun, and takes his hand, pulling him up. Jisoo chuckles, following behind as Junhui leads Minghao to the elevator and out of the building. Jisoo doesn’t say anything when they get to the car, getting in the driver’s seat and letting the duo sit at the back._

_Junhui still doesn’t say anything on the ride back either, content with laying his head on Minghao’s shoulder, hugging his arm and linking their fingers together. Minghao doesn’t try to interrogate him, enjoying the lavender scent that wafts from Junhui’s head. He knows Junhui will tell him when they get back to Junhui’s apartment._

_Occasionally, Minghao will catch Jisoo’s eye in the rearview mirror, the elder having a knowing glint in his eye that Minghao doesn’t know how to place, but it feels good somehow. He closes his eyes and leans his head against Junhui’s, the grip on his hand tightening slightly._

_Minghao will just wait until Jisoo tells them they’re at Junhui’s building._

_+++_

_When they get to the door of Junhui’s apartment, Junhui puts the code in like normal whereas Minghao would have expected maybe a stutter or a rush. After taking off their shoes, Junhui gestures for Minghao to wait for him on the couch._

_Minghao cautiously does, taking a seat and watching his boyfriend scuttle off to the kitchen and grab two water bottles, one from the fridge and one from the corner beside it, before joining him. Junhui passes Minghao the lukewarm water and opens his own, gulping down a good fourth of it before sighing._

_“Jun-ah, what is it?” Minghao asks, giggling and patting his knee. “You’re kind of freaking me out here.”_

_Junhui takes a deep inhale, eyes resting somewhere off Minghao’s left shoulder. “So Siwon-hyungnim said that there was a studio out in Dongyang that saw some of the clips and commercials I was doing.”_

_Minghao nods enthusiastically, grabbing Junhui’s hand and hums an encouraging noise._

_“He said they liked my look and read that I was a child actor. So Zhoumi-sunbaenim helped me send in an audition tape for a drama they have in the works a few weeks ago. It’s a supporting part but it’s something. Siwon-hyungnim said they wanted me to go in and read for it since they’re seriously considering me, but,” Junhui says, meeting Minghao’s eyes, slightly hesitant, “if I get it, I’d have to go there for four months to shoot it.”_

_Minghao keeps nodding, encouraging Junhui to go on. When he doesn’t and just watches Minghao’s face, Minghao realizes he’s waiting for his response. “Oh! Well, do you want to do the part?”_

_Junhui bashfully nods. “It seemed pretty cool.” He pulls his sleeves over his hands. “It’s a period drama.”_

_“So what did you tell Director Siwon-nim?”_

_“I said I’d think about it,” Junhui answers seriously. “I wanted to talk to you first.”_

_“Oh.” Minghao quickly nods. “If you’re asking me what I think, I think you should do it.”_

_Minghao doesn’t think it’s even really a question. This is a great thing for Junhui, an opportunity to get his acting career in full swing. This is what he was practicing and studying for, putting all his time and effort in._

_Junhui makes a squeamish face. “The studio is Hengdian. It’s out in Dongyang. That’s in Jinhua, Zhejiang.”_

_“Even better!” Minghao continues, clearly the more elated of the two. “You get to act in your first language! That’s a great first project back in the game!”_

_Junhui’s head tilts slightly, pouting. “I’d be away from you.”_

_Minghao’s stunned rapid blinking comes back. He was so caught up in the possibilities for Junhui’s career that he completely overlooked that part. He purses his lips as he thinks for a few seconds._

_Jinhua, Zhejiang, that was like, near Shanghai and they’re only about an hour off, time-difference wise. There are thousands of other couples who have it worse so far be it for Minghao to act like this is the worst possible thing in the world. Besides, it’s only four months. That’s all it takes for Junhui to shoot his scenes and come home. Minghao can handle that._

_If they can get through four months, they can get through anything, can’t they?_

_Minghao shakes himself out of his thoughts, placing his hands over Junhui’s in his lap. “That’s fine, Jun-ah, it’s only four months. I don’t want you to not take this because of me. Please. We can message each other and video chat as much as possible.”_

_“Even during the late night shoots?”_

_Minghao slaps Junhui’s arm. “I know what you’re thinking but no,” he pauses, then in a serious tone he adds, “No wait. Maybe.”_

_Junhui gulps. “R-really?”_

_Minghao nods. “Yeah, sometimes shoots run until like four in the morning, right? You’ll be on set and it’ll be like five o’clock here so I’ll just send you, you know, photos. That I took earlier that evening, thinking of you.”_

_Junhui watches Minghao suspiciously before he pieces it together and drops his head. “I hate you sometimes.”_

_Minghao smirks, draping an arm over him and planting a quick kiss on his cheek. “But you love me.”_

_Junhui chuckles. “I do,” he replies, turning his head back to look at Minghao. “You sure you’re okay with this?”_

_Minghao firmly nods. “Absolutely. If you want to do it, I’ll support you. Besides, it’ll be good for you,” he says, leaning on him. “[It’s just four months. And if we can survive that, we can survive anything, Wen Junhui. I promise.]”_

_“Okay,” Junhui decides firmly, “then I’ll do it.” He hums, grabbing the hand Minghao has draped over him and rocks them back and forth, sock-covered feet tapping away at the floor excitedly. There’s an odd feeling that washes over Minghao. Part of him can’t believe they were able to make a big decision like that together that easily. He’s proud but he’s simultaneously scared and excited for what it actually means._

_“I appreciate you telling me though,” Minghao adds, the thought occurring to him during the silence._

_“Of course, you think I’d make a decision like this without telling you?” Junhui replies. “Do you promise to feed Wonwoo while I’m gone?”_

_Minghao giggles. “I’ll do my best.”_

_“Remember, no shellfish.”_

_Minghao grunts. “I’ll write it down.” He sighs, the conversation finally sinking in. “Does that mean you’ll let me come to your apartment while you’re gone?”_

_“Yeah,” Junhui replies casually. “Where else are you going to take your filthy photos and videos when you send them to me?”_

_“Wait, really?”_

_Junhui turns to him, brows furrowed in confusion. “Was there somewhere else you were planning on taking them? Unless you were kidding about sending me those over four months, [HaoHao,] because that’s unusually cruel, even for you.”_

_Minghao slaps Junhui’s chest. “No, not that. You mean you’d actually let me come here?”_

_“[HaoHao,] please. We both know you’ve done that plenty of times already. And you’re usually not the one asking so this is new.”_

_Minghao bites his lip down to control himself from hitting him again. “I mean visit. Drop by. Whatever.”_

_Junhui chuckles in disbelief, rubbing the sore spot on his chest. “Yes, why? Do you not believe me? How else are you supposed to feed Wonwoo?”_

_Minghao huffs, leaning back on the sofa. “Yeah but… that’s like a big deal, right?”_

_Junhui tosses his head back and forth in thought. “Maybe” —he leans over and presses a quick chaste kiss to Minghao’s lips— “but I trust you. And I love you, so….”_

_Minghao brings his free hand to the back of Junhui’s head and pulls him close. “I love you too,” he mumbles, smiling against his lips before he kisses him. After a few seconds, he tries to deepen it, which Junhui enthusiastically accepts as he pulls himself over Minghao’s lap._

_+++_

_In the two weeks between the announcement that Junhui was officially cast and the date that he would be leaving for Dongyang for shooting, Minghao spends as much time as possible with Junhui._

_When Junhui isn’t practicing with Zhoumi at work, Minghao helps Junhui run through lines with the first script he’s sent over at his apartment. Minghao tries his best to resist smiling when he watches Junhui slapping sticky notes into specific pages and highlighting sections he particularly wants to go over. There are some times that Junhui appears as nervous as he was when Minghao visited him for his four lines in that Korean drama._

_“What are you thinking about?” Minghao asks, tapping the script on his folded legs._

_Junhui’s arms droop by his sides from where he’s practicing in that space in front of the TV._

_“You have that look in your eye again,” Minghao continues._

_Junhui sighs, looking at the floor. “I was just thinking that I’m gonna have to do this later without you,” he says sadly, pressing his cheeks up in a pressed smile. He looks up and meets Minghao’s eye. “I’m excited that I’m going but I’m also scared. It almost doesn’t feel real, it’s my first big role in a while and it’s overseas and you can’t even come with me.”_

_Minghao hums, offering a smile of his own and patting the spot on the couch beside him. “You don’t need me there.”_

_Junhui walks around the table to the space Minghao is offering, flinging himself face-down over Minghao’s lap instead of sitting normally. “I want you there. I know it’s not really a big deal but I still think about it.”_

_Minghao softly pats at Junhui’s back. “Do you want to take a break?”_

_Junhui immediately flips himself over to gauge Minghao’s face, frowning suspiciously._

_Minghao pats Junhui’s cheek. “A break from practice, not from us,” he says gently, giggling._

_“Oh,” Junhui replies, sitting himself up. “Sure.” He kisses Minghao’s cheek and then leans his head at the crook of Minghao’s neck again, sighing._

_“What are you doing?”_

_“You said we’re taking a break from practice. I’m resting,” Junhui mumbles next to his skin, slipping a hand to Minghao’s opposite shoulder._

_Minghao lets out a grunt. “Do you always have to sit on me though? I told you you’re heavy.”_

_Junhui huffs but doesn’t make any effort to move. “When I go to Dongyang, I’m going to get a boyfriend who doesn’t tell me how heavy I am.”_

_Minghao immediately pinches Junhui’s side. “Try it, see what happens.”_

_Junhui instinctively curls into himself, giggling. “I didn’t mean I get a new boyfriend that replaces you, I just meant I’d get an_ additional _boyfriend.”_

 _Minghao groans, slapping Junhui’s back. “Try it._ See what happens. _”_

_Somehow, Junhui has the audacity to keep giggling, hopping off Minghao’s lap to find some food from the kitchen._

_After they’d been practicing for a while, Wonwoo drops in, apparently looking for some more food. Minghao finds it interesting how Junhui immediately freezes, the line trailing off into a mumble as he covers his face with his hands and sinks into a low crouch on the floor._

_As he watches Junhui chase Wonwoo out, Minghao wonders how closely Junhui regarded him if he was willing to show Minghao his mistakes during practice but was too shy to show Wonwoo._

_+++_

_Junhui is meant to be in Dongyang by the first week of April._

_Minghao has to say goodbye to Junhui in the apartment since they can’t risk being photographed together at the airport. Ever since Minghao’s fear at the beach and the news of Junhui’s casting was announced, they’ve decided to be more careful with exposing their relationship than normal._

_He helps Junhui bring his bags to the door and watches as Jisoo and the taxi driver bring the bags down to the taxi van waiting below. After Junhui runs around the apartment doing a last-minute check and slips his shoes on, Minghao goes over and grabs his hand, watching Junhui’s face with the words he can’t say._

_Junhui chuckles at him, waiting._

_Minghao instead decides to clamp both of his hands around Junhui’s, holding it to his chest, staring at Junhui’s face with the saddest expression he could possibly muster._

_Junhui turns to the entrance and tries tugging on his hand but Minghao isn’t letting go. He lets out another chuckle, facing him and cups Minghao’s cheek with his free hand. “[HaoHao, you knew this was coming. You agreed, remember?]”_

_Minghao pouts, eyes shifting around. “[Doesn’t mean it doesn’t suck, gē].”_

_It’s strange. Minghao didn’t think he’d be the clingy one when this moment came. He thought he’d be the one comforting Junhui and talking him into leaving._

_Junhui looks back at Jisoo, who has just come back up to collect Junhui. Jisoo looks between them, smiles and gives a knowing nod. He steps back a few feet, rounding the corner in the hallway._

_“Look, I’ll be back before you know it and in the meanwhile, you can send me all the filthy photos and videos you want. Only of you though, don’t be sending me other people.” Junhui blinks quickly and tries to shake the idea out of his head. When Minghao doesn’t respond to his joke, Junhui continues, “I’ll miss you.”_

_“I’ll miss you too.” Minghao leans forward to kiss him, probably the last one they’ll have for a while. He does his best to savor it, keeping it relatively soft. They pull apart and Minghao smiles. “I love you.”_

_Junhui giggles. “Love you too.”_

_Jisoo comes back, tugging on Junhui’s elbow. “Sorry to rush you but we really gotta go. Bye Myungho!” He waves._

_Minghao isn’t sure what comes over him but he rushes forward and hugs Jisoo. “Bye hyung. Be safe. Don’t let Jun-hyung boss you around too much,” he mumbles over his shoulder. “Text me when you land. Both of you.”_

_Jisoo chuckles and pats Minghao’s back. “Of course.”_

_They leave with a last wave goodbye and Minghao sneaks one last quick kiss. He guesses they’ll stop by Wonwoo’s on the way down to say bye to him. As the pair disappear towards the elevator, Minghao lets the door of Junhui’s apartment swing close as he sighs, turning back into the now-empty space._

_Minghao has to stop himself from going to the window to watch the taxi drive away. He thinks it’ll hurt more that way. Instead, he busies himself with going to the fridge, looking to see if there’s enough food for Wonwoo to survive or he’s going to have to think fast. He decides there’s enough to last Wonwoo about three days when he hears the passcode being punched in and the door beeps open._

_Minghao turns his head away from the fridge to see Wonwoo by the kitchen entryway, stunned._

_“Jun-hyung_ just _left and you’re already here looking for food?” Minghao jokes, leveling him._

_“Oh, you’re here. And you’re scrounging for food too? Thought that was my job,” Wonwoo returns, chuckling as Minghao closes the fridge door and steps away from it._

_“Nah, Jun-hyung asked me to make sure you were fed while he was gone,” Minghao good-naturedly returns, taking a seat at the table. “There’s enough that should last you about three days.” He considers gesturing Wonwoo to sit down too before remembering he doesn’t actually live here._

_Thankfully, Wonwoo joins Minghao at the table anyways, grin still plastered on his face. “So out of Junnie’s boyfriends, you’re definitely my favorite.”_

_Minghao feels his curiosity piqued. “There were other boyfriends?”_

_Wonwoo gives a small nod. “Just high school ones. Two to be exact. One girlfriend. And a couple of confessions here and there in college.”_

_“Ah,” Minghao responds, nodding as he lets the information sink in. He knows he shouldn’t be jealous, he’s the one Junhui’s with now so it doesn’t matter. “Why am I the favorite?”_

_Wonwoo seems to share Junhui’s habit of tossing his head side to side when he thinks. “You know how nice Junnie is so he used to just agree to go out with whoever confessed to him. One boyfriend was mostly after the status of dating someone who dabbled in modeling and judged Junnie for hanging out with ‘someone like me,’” he says, sneering and making low-effort air quotes._

_Minghao feels himself frown as he nods, encouraging Wonwoo to keep talking._

_“The other was nice but didn’t seem to like Junnie for Junnie, y’know? Might’ve seen a pretty face and assigned all these attributes to him that weren’t really him, just whatever they thought Junnie should be. Same with the girlfriend.” Wonwoo shrugs. “After that, he stopped accepting people’s confessions. I guess until yours. When I asked if he really liked any of them, he said he wasn’t sure.”_

_Minghao keeps nodding. Junhui never mentioned any of that but Minghao can see why it would be weird to talk about. He thinks back to the time Junhui finally cried in front of him, when Minghao truly felt like it was his first glimpse into the real Junhui. Minghao starts to wonder just how many ways Junhui tried to hide himself, if it added to why Jeonghan and Hyejin felt inclined to make threats on his behalf._

_As he notices Wonwoo watching him, Minghao smiles and feels compelled to change the subject. “So Junnie told me you can’t eat shellfish, anything else I should know while I try to feed you for four months?”_

_Wonwoo chuckles and nudges his glasses up. “Nope, I’m not too picky otherwise. Did Junnie really tell you to make sure I’m fed while he’s gone?”_

_Minghao nods firmly. “It was funny, he really made it sound like he was talking about a cat.”_

_“Of course he did.” Wonwoo smiles and stands up. “You don’t really have to do that, you know. I can order food.”_

_Minghao hums. He’s not sure why he didn’t think about it or question it; Junhui just asked him to do it —probably even as a joke— and Minghao agreed with no qualms. “Yeah, but I’ll still try. It seemed important to Jun-hyung.”_ So it’s important to me. _Minghao smiles._

_“Don’t worry, I won’t tell him if you happen to forget,” Wonwoo replies, stretching. “Well, I should get back to work, I was just dropping by.”_

_Minghao nods, also standing. “Sure. I should get home soon too,” he says, looking around for anything he needs to take with him. “By the way, Jun-hyung asked me to film filthy things for him here while he’s gone so make sure you only come in the mornings for food.”_

_Wonwoo’s face scrunches. “Oh god. Fine, thanks for the warning,” he groans, grimacing._

_They get their shoes on and make their way back down to Wonwoo’s floor where he locates his apartment and punches his code in. Minghao doesn’t bother trying to peek. When it beeps open, Wonwoo sticks his foot in and turns back to Minghao._

_“For the record, I really like you two together. Junnie really lucked out with you,” he says gently._

_Minghao smiles, offering a small head bow. “Thanks, hyung. That means a lot, coming from you.”_

_Wonwoo steps inside and peeks his head in the space between the door and the frame. “Besides, you think any of his other boyfriends would agree to feed me while he was gone?”_

_Minghao huffs out a sigh, smiling still as Wonwoo laughs, finally closing his door._

_+++_

_When Minghao gets home, it’s still pretty early and he notices Mingyu finishing up his cleaning of the kitchen, presumably having had made breakfast earlier._

_“Oh, hey,” Mingyu says, wandering back to his room. “I wasn’t sure if you ate but I left you some rice and beef if you want it.”_

_Minghao watches Mingyu retreat to his room and goes over to the kitchen to check. He finds two small bowls with the exact items Mingyu mentioned, one of which was in the bowl Minghao had made at the pottery class with Junhui months ago._

_Even when Minghao came home at odd hours, Mingyu had stopped interrogating him about his whereabouts a while ago. Maybe he had finally accepted that the answer was just going to relate back to Junhui. Minghao picks up the bowl he made, which Mingyu had actually put the rice in, running his fingers over the rim._

“Hmm, do you keep all your promises?”

“To you, I will.”

_He already misses Junhui._

_“You don’t have to eat it if you don’t want to.”_

_Minghao looks towards the doorway and sees Mingyu standing there, fastening the belt on his dress pants. He has the familiar green dress shirt tucked into it and Minghao wonders what Mingyu would have to be dressing up for._

_“You’re staring at the rice weird. You can leave it if you really don’t want to eat it,” Mingyu says casually._

_Minghao puts the bowl back on the table. “No, it’s okay, I’ll eat it soon. I was just thinking.”_

_Mingyu nods. “Okay. I just didn’t want you thinking you had to force yourself to eat food just because I made it.”_

_“No, I uh,” Minghao says, rotating the bowl a bit, “I was thinking about how I was going to ask if you could make bigger portions. So I could take some with me to work. For lunch. If you had time. If not, it’s okay.”_

_Mingyu scoffs. “Bigger portions aren't really a matter of time as much if I’m already making it. You’re basically asking for a meal prep though, right?”_

_Minghao nods. “If you could. The cafeteria changed their menu and I don’t really like it.”_

_Mingyu chuckles, moving on to fixing his hair. “I was about to be flattered. What do you like then? Ramen and stir fry okay?”_

_Minghao sighs, nodding again as he walks over to Mingyu. “Sure, if that’s what you’re already making.” His arms come around Mingyu in a hug that even he doesn’t know how to explain._

_“Myungho?”_

_“Jun-hyung left for overseas shooting today,” Minghao mumbles back. He figures Mingyu would’ve known anyway from the news articles or rumors or whatever; there was no point hiding it. “It’s bumming me out more than I thought it would.”_

_“Oh,” is Mingyu’s single-tone reply, and Minghao feels his arms snaking around his back to return the hug. “He’ll be back though, right? We could go to the museum again later today after work if you’re up to it? Get your mind off it?”_

_Minghao quickly nods. “That sounds nice, yeah.” He’s about to let go and pull out of the hug but Mingyu’s hold is firm. “I don’t want to wrinkle your shirt too much.”_

_“I’ll just get another one if it does,” Mingyu says, laughing. “I know how to iron.”_

_Minghao finds himself nodding again and settling back into the hug. “Okay. Thanks.”_

_+++_

_During the first month that Junhui’s gone, Minghao finds himself a bit more restless._

_He knew it had happened but he wasn’t exactly sure_ how much _Junhui was integrated into his life until he was gone, even when they barely saw each other those three weeks._

_There were no more frequent selfies of his random hours, no more cutesy concerned text messages, no car rides back to Junhui’s apartment, no sudden pestering in Junhui’s dining table. Minghao told himself he could do this because it's happened before._

_But this was way longer._

_“You miss Junnie,” Wonwoo says, corners of his lips poking up in an amused sort of smile he’s not even trying to hide._

_Minghao sighs, sitting his chin in his hand, elbow on the table of Junhui’s apartment. “Am I that obvious?”_

_“Yes.” Wonwoo laughs, enough for him to throw his body back in his chair. “You don’t really have much other reason to be coming here so often otherwise. And when you_ are _here, you stare ever so longingly at random things and sigh dramatically. It’s cute though, I’m sure he’d be flattered.”_

_“Let’s not tell him it’s this bad,” Minghao mumbles. “I don’t want it going to his head.”_

_Wonwoo levels him with a flat look. “You should tell him. I’m sure he’d want to hear that you miss him. He probably misses you too.”_

_“Probably?” Minghao repeats in offense._

_“Definitely,” Wonwoo corrects, chuckling a little. “He definitely misses you too.”_

_Instead, Minghao focuses on work, asking Seungcheol to give him more responsibilities so he doesn’t have enough energy left to notice how much he misses Junhui._

_Minghao gets assigned to shooting behind-the-scenes photos of the musical theatre department while they prepare for a show. He bumps into Sunggyu from the test shoot, who is so busy chasing a stagehand that he barely says hi._

_“Don’t mind sunbae, he’s always like that. He’s like the department grandpa. He even does that with Director Kyuhyun-nim.”_

_And this is how Minghao meets Seokmin, easily excitable and apparently just about to go into makeup. When Minghao tries to tell Seokmin that he doesn’t really mind what Sunggyu does since they’re not that close, Seokmin just claps, laughing._

_“But you looked so annoyed,” Seokmin points out, while also literally pointing a finger near Minghao’s nose and still laughing._

_Minghao is not about to tell this person he’s just met that he’s slightly moody because his boyfriend is gone so he tries to think of another reason he can give._

_“You’re thinking about what lie you’re going to tell me right now, aren’t you?” Seokmin interrupts again, face still stretching like he’s about to burst into laughter._

_Minghao tosses his head back, brushing his bangs out of his face. “I don’t see why that’s so funny.”_

_Seokmin mimics his action. “You’re so fancy, what is that?” He laughs again, still mimicking Minghao tossing his hair back, clapping._

_Minghao ends up laughing despite himself and has no choice but to admit that Seokmin’s laughter is just infectious. Apparently Seokmin just finds Minghao funny in general, which he mentions once he gets pulled into the makeup chair and Minghao starts taking pictures._

_Eventually, Seokmin asks if Minghao will tell him why he’s so grumpy if Seokmin treats him to Korean beef at a restaurant he knows a few blocks away. Minghao agrees._

_“Ohh,” Seokmin choruses out, placing the bowl of beef from the server onto the table, “you could’ve just said that! Your boyfriend leaving for work overseas sounds rough.”_

_“I wasn’t about to tell that to someone I just met!”_

_“Why not? I would have!”_

_Minghao chuckles. “Not all of us are you!”_

_“That’s_ their _problem!”_

_There’s a gross laugh that spurts through Minghao’s lips as he tries his best to block it with his hand._

_Seokmin watches him, smiling. “See, aren’t you glad you met me? You feel better already, right?”_

_Minghao nods, about to say something about how most people wouldn’t randomly laugh at a person they just met and offer to buy them beef, but his phone lights up on the table. He almost ignores it but sees it’s from Junhui and quickly opens it._

_It’s a selfie of Junhui, almost head on from a downward angle while he wears a tired expression._

‘[Hi HaoHao! Sorry I couldn’t send anything until now. We were doing read-throughs most of the day and some of the gēges were showing me how they wanted to do the blocking for the first scene. It’s really fun but tiring after a while. You should send me your face so I’ll get my energy back.]’ 

_And he’s attached a heart and a dog emoji from a meme Minghao’s sure he’s seen before. Somehow Minghao wants to question if Junhui really was tired or was using that as a way to deliver weird lines. He zooms on the picture and notices the familiar triangular earring still dangling from Junhui’s earlobe._

_As Minghao is about to start typing back, he’s interrupted by Seokmin’s voice across the table, “That’s him, right? So you’re like, in love-_ love. _”_

_Minghao can hear the grin in his voice before he looks up. “What makes you say that?”_

_“It’s written all over your face, even the aunties in the kitchen can probably tell,” Seokmin replies, moving bowls around on the table to make space for the rice and side dishes. “It’s sweet, don’t worry. But you’re going to show me his picture, right?”_

_+++_

_By the end of the second month, Minghao’s gotten used to sending Junhui either a text or a voice message before he goes to sleep and is usually greeted to one from Junhui in return. He tells himself it’s also for Junhui’s sake and not just because Minghao feels particularly clingy. He does, however, change Junhui’s contact picture in his phone of himself and a sleeping Junhui and hopes it will alleviate himself._

_Junhui’s replies are usually texts and are far more irregularly timed due to how his shooting schedule seems to work. He also imagines Junhui getting wrapped up in rehearsals too and can’t really blame him._

_He manages to video chat with Junhui once, with him wandering around the set while they weren’t shooting and ran into a few of Junhui’s co-stars. One of which was somehow taller than Junhui and extremely handsome enough that Minghao wonders what village he must have saved in a previous life._

_He seems polite enough, curiously asking,_ “[Junfei, what are you doing?]” _when Junhui brings him into frame beside him, looking at the screen at Minghao’s face._

“[Yanannie, this is my boyfriend, Minghao,]” _Junhui replies, beaming. Minghao should know to expect the incoming,_ “[Isn’t he cute?]” _but it still somehow manages to catch him by surprise._ “[He worries about me a lot.]” _Junhui continues, which isn’t exactly wrong._

“[Aww, hi, nice to meet you! I’m Yanan,]” _he says with a polite bow of the head. Then Yanan says the words Minghao had heard before and isn’t sure if he wants to hear them again now,_ “[Don’t worry, I’ll take care of him for you when he’s here.]”

 _Minghao wants to say that’s what Jisoo is there for but stops when Junhui giggles, playfully pushing Yanan out of frame. Suddenly, Junhui walks over to a more secluded corner against the wall, most of the lighting blocked off. The shadows bounce off Junhui's features a little_ too _unfairly._

“[He’s kidding. Mostly,]” _Junhui says seriously._ “[He’s nice, though. He’s a good friend.]”

_Minghao frowns. “[Wait. Yes, Junhui, I know. Why are you telling me that?]”_

“[You looked sort of upset,]” _Junhui answers, looking down for a bit._ “[You had the same look on your face when Rongxian said the same thing to you before and I remember how that went. I got worried you’d think I wasn’t kidding about the additional boyfriend thing. I was totally kidding.]”

_Minghao shakes his head. “[I know. I’m not really bothered by that, Junhui, it’s okay.]”_

“[But you’re bothered about something,]” _Junhui counters gently._ “[I spent a lot of time looking at your face, remember? I know.]”

_Minghao has to think about it for a few seconds before he answers, “[It’s weird without you here.]”_

_Junhui’s face stares a long time at the screen before a hand covers his mouth, giggling._ “[You’re so cute!]” _he says, continuing to giggle for longer than Minghao’s liking._ “[I miss you too.]”

_After that call, Minghao tries to focus on work again. He hangs out a lot with Seokmin after work, with Mingyu when he has time, and with Wonwoo when he knows that being around him won’t make him think too much of Junhui. His plan to leave any leftovers he has of Mingyu’s cooking in Junhui’s fridge for Wonwoo to raid has also worked so far, with neither of them saying anything in particular about it._

_+++_

_In the third month, right at the beginning of June, although Seokmin has made it somewhat of a mission to bug Minghao whenever he can, adjusting to working without Junhui still feels weird. He once again asks Seungcheol for more things to do._

_He gets tasked to assorted models in the department and occasionally actors when shooting promotion images for upcoming dramas. Most of them are friendly, some are actors that Minghao briefly met before when Junhui was on set with them but his conversations with them don’t go much beyond that. He gets a wandering thought of how he hasn’t been near the acting department in a while and wonders if visiting Siwon without Junhui would be weird._

_Minghao is looking through his schedule for the day when the actor he’s assigned to for the next hour comes in from makeup and styling._

_“It’s you!” Minghao exclaims, pointing a weak finger at him._

_The actor stops, tilting his head. “Excuse me?”_

_Minghao double-checks his schedule for the name. “Kim Myungsoo-ssi?” The actor he saw Junhui with a few times, who he occasionally saw in the back of Junhui’s selfies but never had the chance to meet, the one Minghao thought looked like he came out of a Japanese manga. “Sorry, I’ve seen you around before but I didn’t know your name.”_

_Myungsoo laughs, nodding. “Likewise.”_

_Minghao bows his head politely. “I’m Seo Myungho, the photographer for today.”_

_Myungsoo’s eyes light up. “Oh, we have the same character?” He does a small finger gun at him. “I feel connected to you already.”_

_“Do you really?” Minghao giggles, watching Myungsoo walk backwards and sit in position on the prop sofa._

_“Yeah,” Myungsoo scoffs, already getting into character, leaning his arm on the back of the sofa, biting his thumb and looking coldly slightly off camera. “My own brother’s name is Moonsoo so we don’t even share that. I don’t meet many people with ‘Myung’ in their name. And this is a big industry so I’ve met_ many people.”

_Minghao snaps a few quick shots as they continue the shoot. Minghao finds that Myungsoo has a particularly good cold stare that reminds him of Junhui during their shoots together._

_During the shoot, an embarrassed Myungsoo tells Minghao about how he used to go by a stage name of L after a comedian also named Myungsoo showed up and it felt weird being associated with him. In return, Minghao tells Myungsoo about how he tried to use Eight as a name in his early stages of freelance and it somehow got slurred into Eisa until he dropped it. Myungsoo then decides these will be their nicknames for each other after being so happy about their shared character._

_When Myungsoo leaves the shoot, he asks if Minghao would want to get barbeque. As he’s agreeing, he wonders how times he can get away with having someone treat him to dinner._

_+++_

_Despite being five years older, Myungsoo gets along wonderfully with Minghao, which Myungsoo still attributes to the shared character in their names. They both even picked out nicknames involving a single English alphanumeric pronunciation. Myungsoo even joked once about how if their nicknames were combined, it could be read as ‘late’ in English. Minghao thinks the joke is corny, but likes it nonetheless. He tries not to think about how that joke would be right up Junhui’s alley and how much he would have loved it._

_He tries not to think about how much he misses Junhui._

_Myungsoo is grilling meat strips when he asks, “So you and Junhwi, huh?” all of a sudden._

_Minghao flinches, feeling his face heat up as he nods. “Mm-hm.”_

_“Sorry,” Myungsoo says quickly when he sees the younger’s reaction. “He used to show off your selfies when we were on set before. I didn’t want to mention it right away in case I made it weird. Which I just have so that’s embarrassing.”_

_Minghao gulps, nodding. “No, it’s fine,” he says nervously and quickly darts his tongue out to lick his lips. “But yeah, we’re dating. That’s okay, isn’t it?”_

_Myungsoo shrugs. “I mean, it’s none of_ my _business, but I think you two go well together.” Minghao lets out a sigh of relief, smiling. “Not that I’ve really seen you together. I mean, I’ve seen you and I’ve seen him and he always just seemed really happy when he talked about you and I just assumed, you know,” he says, getting into a flustered explanation on his own._

_Minghao chuckles. “It’s okay, I get what you mean.”_

_Myungsoo quickly shakes his head and clears his throat. “Anyways, you know I tried to get him a part in a drama once?”_

_Minghao quirks his head to the side, interested. “I didn’t. How’d that go?”_

_“He was iffy at first because he wasn’t that confident in his ability to act while speaking Korean. I guess he’s more comfortable doing Chinese acting because Siwon-hyung shifted him off to Joumi-ssi. Not that I blame Jun or anything, I just figured it would be worth a shot.” Myungsoo shrugs, his lips squishing into a smile, eyes still on the meat strips. “He settled on being an extra in it though. I think it was a customer that appears in the back for like, maybe a scene or two?”_

_Minghao grins. It was probably one of the quick roles Minghao wasn’t aware of. “You’re going to send that to me, right?”_

_Myungsoo’s eyes land on him and he smirks. “Of course,” he replies, looking back at the meat and tossing some on Minghao’s plate. “What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t show you clips of your boyfriend to tease him over?”_

_Minghao raises his drink. “Clearly not a friend I’d want,” he says before bringing it to his lips._

_Myungsoo smiles, finishing grilling the rest of the meat quietly._

_“That was nice of you, though,” Minghao says softly._

_Myungsoo nods. “It’s a shame since he has a really good look. And he’s a really good friend. We gotta watch out for each other, you know? He would’ve put me up for parts if he found them.”_

_When he gets home, Minghao records a video message for Junhui, talking about how he met Myungsoo, how well they get along because of the character in their names, and how he reminds Minghao of Junhui. He tells him how he told Myungsoo about their relationship and bites his lip, hesitant, before he ends the video and sends it off._

_He’s surprised when his phone starts ringing a few minutes later for a video call. He takes a deep breath before he answers it._

“[HaoHao?]” _Junhui timidly asks, expression and voice swimming in concern._

_Minghao nods, finding his heart relaxing at the sight of Junhui on the screen. He’s in an elaborate period costume complete with makeup and a black long-haired wig. “Yeah? What’s up, why are you calling? Are you on set?”_

“Yeah, but we’re on break. They’re setting up for another scene and I saw your video,” _Junhui answers, glancing up past the phone._ “Are you okay?”

_Minghao sniffles and clears his throat. “Yeah, of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”_

“You just seemed really uneasy when you said you talked to Myungsoo-sunbae about us.”

_“Is he really your sunbae if you were acting as a child?”_

“[Minghao.]” _Junhui’s voice teeters into reprimanding._

_Minghao blinks a couple times to get the stinging away from his eyes. “I don’t know, it felt really weird. It was so easy to tell Myungsoo-hyung about us but it was so stressful telling Mingyu. I guess it hit me that it shouldn’t feel like that.”_

_Junhui’s eyes fill with worry, scanning over him. There’s silence over the line for a few seconds before Junhui sighs,_ “[I’m sorry, HaoHao. I feel like I should be there.]”

_Minghao hurriedly shakes his head. “No, don’t! It’s okay, it was just a weird feeling, it’s no big deal. It’s not more important than your shoot.”_

_Junhui hums, the sound discontented as he tilts his head about, pouting._ “Still, I wish I knew what to say. It’s easier when I just sit on you to make you feel better.”

_“You think that solved things?”_

“Are you saying it didn’t?” _Junhui challenges back._

_Minghao presses his lips together to hide his smile. “No, nevermind.”_

”Do you think it would help if you talked to Mingyu?”

_“About Myungsoo-hyung?”_

“Maybe, if you want. Or I guess in general,” _Junhui tries, shrugging._ “You feel weird because it was easier for you to talk about our relationship with someone you just met over your best friend. That’s, I don’t know really, but maybe you could figure it out if you talked to Mingyu. I know you said before you were still having problems with him but… I don’t know. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to try.”

_Minghao finds himself nodding at how much Junhui is trying. “Okay, Jun-ah, I’ll try.”_

“Tell me how it goes. I’ll cheer for you, okay? I’ll try to message you whenever I can,” _Junhui promises with a bright, wide-eyed smile, causing a slight flutter at Minghao’s heart at the pure optimism._ “By the way, Shua-hyung says hi. Do you want to talk to him about your problem? He’s all hyung-like and sagely.” _There’s a laugh and a light swat from the side off-screen at Junhui’s back, causing Junhui to laugh and lean forward in embarrassment._

_Minghao chuckles. “No, that’s okay. I’ll try to talk to Mingyu. Thanks, hyung. Do well on set. Love you, bye.”_

“Love you too. Bye-bye.” _Junhui waves, still bright somehow._

_Minghao hangs up and lets out a long sigh._

_+++_

_For Junhui’s birthday, Minghao gives Wonwoo a collection of pictures and clips of either himself with Junhui or random scenery and asks Wonwoo if he could edit them together to an English jazz song he picked out to give to Junhui as a gift._

_Minghao spends an unusual amount of time hovering over Wonwoo’s chair like a frantic mosquito until Wonwoo starts laughing. “What?”_

_“Nothing, it’s just, you’re so nervous about this and it’s really cute,” Wonwoo says, covering his mouth. As he pushes himself back towards his computer desk, he says, with an unusual amount of dry snark, “It’s almost as if you haven’t been this forwardly romantic about Junnie before.”_

_Minghao groans, walking out of the room. “I can’t believe this, I hate it here.”_

_Wonwoo’s laugh fills the room and floats into the hallway when Minghao goes to check his kitchen. He finds some of the containers of Mingyu’s leftovers still there and Minghao feels relieved, even when Wonwoo calls him back to check on how he put together certain clips._

_As he finishes watching it and Wonwoo turns to him to wordlessly ask if he has any changes he wants to make, Minghao instead asks something weighing on him oddly instead. “Jun-hyung knows I love him, right?”_

_Wonwoo blinks, slowly tilting his head._

_“I mean, it’s just… he talks to you too, so I thought he might’ve mentioned something. I get worried that I’m not that good at letting him know sometimes.”_

_One of Wonwoo’s hands pats Minghao’s shoulder. “Aw.”_

_“That’s all you have to say?”_

_Wonwoo laughs. “Yeah. If I say anything else, one of you is going to get mad.”_

_“What else were you going to say?”_

_“You’re so cute,” Wonwoo says, beaming as he pats Minghao’s shoulder again._

_+++_

_In July, Junhui’s fourth month away, Minghao gets called into Seungcheol’s office._

_“What do you think of more responsibilities?” he asks, hands folded neatly in front of him on his large wooden desk, decorated with cups of stationery, piles of paper and small picture frames that look like Seungcheol in various sports teams._

_“I think it’s great,” Minghao replies, sitting up straight and folding one leg over the other. “You found more for me to do?”_

_Seungcheol’s head dips as he laughs. “Sort of. I’ve heard from some of the other departments that they’ve really been appreciating the work you’ve been doing over there. Particularly styling, acting and musical theatre. I talked it over with Heechul-hyungnim and Jungsoo-hyungnim and they’re okay with increasing your responsibilities in response. Of course, your pay would increase and they’re also open to hiring an assistant for you in a few months to help with the workload. You’d have freedom to interview them yourself, along with Chan and Jeonghan. Does that sound okay to you?”_

_Minghao takes a deep inhale, rubbing at his knee. “That sounds great. Do you mind if I take a few days to think about it first?”_

_Seungcheol smiles, warm and friendly. “Of course. Do you think you could get back to me by next week?”_

_+++_

“[Next week? HaoHao, that sounds great! Do you really need a whole week?]” _Junhui exclaims when he tells him. He’s actually home this time —or at least in the apartment Jisoo was renting for them—lying on his stomach on the bed, chin on his folded arms, kicking his feet back and forth._

_“[I wanted to talk about it with you first,]” Minghao replies, sighing. He’s lying on his side, having propped his phone up on his pillows. It’s about seven in the morning for him but Minghao suspects Junhui just got home and cleaned his face, evidenced when he sees Junhui yawning._

“[If you’re asking what I think, I think you should do it,]” _he says, grinning. Minghao just sighs and Junhui continues,_ “[I’m not saying that to be cheeky. Well, not completely. But I really think that sounds like a good thing for you. Your hard work is coming back. I’ll pretend I’m not jealous of you taking photos of things that aren’t me.]”

_Minghao rolls his eyes at the joke but is unable to fight back the smile. “[When I interview for assistants, do you volunteer to be part of their test shoots?]”_

“[Hmm, wouldn’t that interfere with your judgement? How well they take pictures of me?]”

_Minghao blinks. “[You’re right, don’t go near them.]”_

_Junhui buries his head in his folded arms, laughing. When he looks back up, he’s smiling. Minghao almost forgot how easily that seems to settle his nerves when he sees Junhui smiling as warmly as he does._ “[Well, I think you should do it. If you don’t want to, I think that’s okay too.]” 

_Minghao frowns when he notices Junhui yawn again. “[Am I keeping you up?]” he asks, pouting._

_Junhui hums._ “[Ah, well the shoot ran late, we only finished around five this morning. Luckily, I think I have less scenes later on. I think I go in after lunch.]”

_“[You should sleep then. I don’t wanna keep you,]” Minghao scolds, voice soft._

“[No, you’re supposed to keep me.]”

 _Minghao sighs. “[Keep you_ up. _Go to sleep, Junhui, I’ll talk to you later.]”_

“[Hmm, fine. Goodnight, HaoHao. Love you,]” _Junhui decides, tossing over to lie on his back, holding the phone above him._

_Minghao sighs, expecting Junhui to just hang up but the call is still connected._

“[HaoHao, I’m waiting.]”

_“[Goodnight, Junfei, love you too.]”_

“[Thank you!]” _Junhui chirps before the call is disconnected._

_+++_

_Throughout the almost-four months, Minghao finds it easier to talk to Mingyu. He’s a little sad that it seems to have something to do with Junhui’s absence and doesn’t want to think that’s entirely the deciding factor._

_But it’s hard not to._

_He can’t exactly blame Mingyu for his excitement at Minghao being at the apartment more often after being at Junhui’s for so long, but it runs a little bitter for Minghao’s liking._

_Mingyu seemed to have no problem when he announced he was going to be late because he was hanging out with Seokmin or Myungsoo though, which fuels his belief that Mingyu’s problem lay with Junhui._

Except you’re not dating either of them or staying over at their apartment, _he reminds himself._

_He’d tried to listen to Junhui, to talk to Mingyu about how he was more comfortable telling Junhui’s acting senior —who was almost essentially a stranger— about his relationship with Junhui than it was talking about it with Mingyu, but he felt it would be accusatory each time._

_Minghao can tell that Mingyu still stiffens his posture or his face twitches when he mentions that he’s going to Junhui’s apartment. He knows that Mingyu doesn’t bat an eye when he mentions Seokmin, Myungsoo or Soonyoung. Minghao also knows that if he brings it up, they would just end up having the same fight over and over again._

_It would be like ramming himself against a wall since every time it was brought up, Mingyu essentially steeled himself against anything Minghao had to say about it._

_They were better off not talking about Junhui. That’s just how their relationship had to be._

_Minghao wonders if he feels more hesitant without Junhui physically being here for him after if it all goes wrong. If Junhui was here, Minghao wonders if he’d be more comfortable confronting Mingyu._

_+++_

_After five months, at the very end of August (since Junhui had to stay an extra month to help with some last-minute reshoots and promotions before the full promotion period), Junhui’s supposed to come home today._

_That is, according to all the messages Junhui’s been blowing up Minghao’s phone with the past week and the one email that Jisoo sent him with their flight details. Minghao is still worried about greeting them at the airport, not wanting to jeopardize Junhui’s reputation without the company’s say, so he decides to wait at Junhui’s apartment._

_Minghao spends most of the morning tidying up Junhui’s apartment, despite it not really being messy in the first place. He’s excited and nervous all at once, being able to see Junhui again after all the floundering he went through without him. His head whips over to the door when he hears shuffling and the passcode being punched in._

_The door opens and in walks Junhui, white t-shirt and denim jacket, fresh-faced albeit tired, and dragging in his luggage bag. Minghao jogs over, pulling in the bag while Junhui toes off his shoes. “You’re home!” Minghao exclaims, relieved._

_Junhui looks up at him and a grin breaks onto his lips. “Yeah.”_

_“Welcome back!” Minghao says, bouncing a little on his toes in excitement. “How was the flight?” From behind Junhui, he can see Jisoo and the taxi driver bringing up Junhui’s other three luggage cases before Jisoo disappears with a wave and a wink._

_Minghao helps bring them all in, noticing that Junhui’s expression hasn’t changed. “What? Why are you smiling like that, Jun-ah?”_

_“You called it home,” he replies softly, walking closer._

_Minghao blinks, stunned at his own words that came out of his mouth without a thought. He chuckles. “Yeah, I guess I did.”_

_Junhui slings an arm around Minghao’s waist and hugs him close. “I really missed you,” he says next to Minghao’s head._

_Minghao nods and takes a deep inhale, trying to take in the air that is Junhui, replacing the longing and loneliness in his lungs. “I missed you too.”_

_Junhui angles his head, leans down to press his lips against Minghao’s, and all Minghao can think about is how this really does feel like home, being here with Junhui in front of him. He doesn’t think much of it when he tries to deepen the kiss, only to have Junhui giggle and pull away. “As much as I’d love to, I wanna take a shower first and get the airport stink off— wait, [HaoHao,] are you crying?”_

_Minghao blinks a few times before he brings the crook of an index finger to his eye, with Junhui’s thumb coming up to affectionately wipe away at the other one. “I guess I am,” Minghao admits shyly. Junhui gives a warm smile in return. “I really missed you, Jun-ah.”_

_Junhui holds out his hand, gesturing for Minghao’s. “Come on,” he says, hand motioning._

_Minghao blinks, sniffling. “I thought you were going to take a shower?”_

_“We are,” he replies plainly._

_Minghao blinks a few more times. “Oh.” He takes Junhui’s hand, letting the older pull him to the bathroom, ignoring Junhui’s small giggle of “you’re so cute” along the way._

_+++_

_“So I was thinking,” Junhui says, coming over to sit beside Minghao on the bed._

_Minghao, scrolling through his phone in his robe, looks up at Junhui who has a towel slung around his neck and is using it to dry at his ears. “You had time to think while we were in there?” Minghao teases, lightly tossing his phone somewhere behind him on the bed in order to take over drying Junhui’s hair._

_Junhui chuckles. “Kinda. But I also thought a lot on the taxi ride from the airport.”_

_“Ah, what about?”_

_“It was just really hard being away from you for all those months, even if I got to work on a really cool project, I just kept… thinking about you and how weird it was being away from you,” Junhui says nervously, and Minghao thinks it’s cute how shy he is about him after all this time._

_Minghao smiles. “Me too.”_

_“And when I came back earlier, you called it home,” Junhui continues, the grin returning._

_Minghao tightens his lips in his mouth and he nods, pretending he’s extremely focused on getting Junhui’s hair dry. “I did.”_

_Junhui nervously dips his head, to which Minghao clicks his tongue and tilts Junhui’s chin back upright so he can continue his task, forcing Junhui to stare at Minghao’s face. “So I was thinking I want you to move in with me. So it can really be our home. Officially.”_

_Minghao, who was preoccupied with his task and staring at Junhui’s damp hair strands, finally looks down and meets Junhui’s eyes, hands stilling. “Really?”_

_Junhui seems to interpret this as hesitation. “We can look for another place if this is too small,” he rushes, almost slurring the words together. “Or… it’s okay if you don’t want to. It was just a thought I had,” he says, although Minghao knows he’s hiding his disappointment._

_“Yeah, okay,” Minghao agrees, the words coming out slightly breathless and his hands drop from Junhui’s head._

_“What?”_

_Minghao giggles, nodding. “[I said yes, I will move in with you, Wen Junhui.]”_

_Junhui’s expression lights up and Minghao thinks it reminds him of when he agreed to do the test shoot. But then he just stares at him and Minghao frowns._

_“What? Why are you just looking at me like that?”_

_Junhui keeps smiling. “I was thinking I really wanted to kiss you.”_

_“[Junhui, I’m your boyfriend, you don’t have to tell me when you want to kiss me, you can just—]” Junhui leans forward and cuts Minghao off._

_+++_

_When Minghao goes home to his apartment with Mingyu the next day, he figures he can’t treat this the same way he did with telling Mingyu about him dating Junhui. He can’t put this off and sneak around this time, he owes Mingyu more than that. He also figures this isn’t technically his home anymore._

_Mingyu isn’t in the kitchen when Minghao gets back, to his surprise._

_“Mingyu?” he calls into the hallway._

_“In here!” Mingyu calls back from his room._

_Minghao makes his way over to it, knocking on it as he pushes it open. Inside Mingyu’s impeccably clean room, Mingyu’s hunched over his desk facing the opposite wall, chair to Minghao. He swivels around and Minghao spots him fidgeting with a small filming camera._

_“What’s up?” Mingyu asks, sitting up straight._

_Minghao takes a breath. He has to tell Mingyu this time. “I uh. Jun-hyung asked me to move in with him. And I’m going to do it. This doesn’t have anything to do with you and me, I just. I think moving in with him is the natural next step for us. Me and Jun.”_

_Other than Mingyu’s mouth moving in mute minute motions, he has no reaction. His eyes dance around the walls, unable to settle or meet Minghao’s own. “Oh.”_

_Minghao nods, undeterred. “We just talked about it yesterday. I just thought I’d let you know.” He’s keeping Mingyu in his life, keeping him involved. “We’re still friends, of course. I just, you know, won’t be living with you anymore.”_

_“I see,” Mingyu continues, voice slightly hollow. Minghao’s getting an odd sense of deja vu, of Mingyu’s back to him, washing dishes while tuning out stale responses._

_“Mingyu,” Minghao presses firmly, snapping Mingyu’s attention to him, “tell me you understand.” He doesn’t want to go through the same fight again. He can't._

_Mingyu’s head starts nodding. “Yeah,” he says, a bit forced and rushed, like he really had been snapped out of something. “Of course I understand. I— That’s a huge step, congratulations!” He sets his camera aside and gets up, arms outstretched. He walks forward with a typical grin on his face, gathering Minghao up in a hug that Minghao is hoping isn’t forced._

_“Thanks,” Minghao returns. “I’ll still visit you here sometimes, idiot.” He laughs, patting Mingyu on the back._

_Mingyu lets out a noticeable sigh over his shoulder. “I’m really happy for you,” he says instead, almost ignoring Minghao’s statement._

_Minghao almost thanks him again but stops when Mingyu hugs him tighter. He lets the words linger in the air and this time, Minghao sincerely hopes Mingyu means them._

_+++_

_After telling Junhui he’d accepted Seungcheol’s offer weeks, Junhui had wanted to celebrate together by going out to dinner. Minghao wanted to celebrate by shoving his tongue down Junhui’s throat to not only make up for the missing months but to also spend time together. Junhui found his argument convincing._

_Minghao wants to think it’s poetic somehow, that when he’s in the middle of, once again, making out with Junhui, this time on his couch, he gets another call from Seungkwan asking him to help him gather a drinking Mingyu from an outing with his friends almost two weeks later, in early September._

_He pats Junhui’s thigh to get off his lap and Junhui complies, rolling to the next cushion over and whips out his own phone, pouting. “I’d be mad but you’re being a responsible friend,” Junhui grumbles, slumping back._

_Minghao smiles as he stands, giving Junhui a small peck. “He’s still my roommate for the next two weeks or so.”_

_Junhui grunts, smirking towards his phone screen. “And then you’re mine,” he says a bit too happily and unabashedly. “Be safe, okay? Come back soon.”_

_Minghao rolls his eyes at the nag, having trouble pushing the smile off his face as he taxis to the address Seungkwan texted him. He finds a nervous Seungkwan outside standing next to a shop sign. It’s a typical looking bar, sign lights decorating Seungkwan’s face._

_“He’s in there with Eunwoo-hyung and Jungkook-hyung, I think,” Seungkwan supplies, sighing._

_Minghao frowns. “You think? How do you know he even needs help?”_

_“My senses went off so I called him!” Seungkwan exclaims loudly, lips coming up in a nervous pout. “Eunwoo-hyung answered and I heard Mingyu-hyung trying to get the phone back but he sounded all slurry so I asked where he was and he said here.” He fidgets a bit with his hands a bit under his chin. Minghao reaches out to lightly hold Seungkwan’s wrist, making a mental note to ask about the senses thing later._

_“We’ll go find him, okay? Don’t worry.”_

_Minghao and Seungkwan push their way into the bar. Luckily, Mingyu is pretty easy to spot, even if he is sitting down, all tall and fancy hair. Seungkwan beelines to their table, not letting go of Minghao's hand._

_“Ah, Myungho!”_

_Minghao looks over at Jungkook, gleefully raising a glass in his direction. “Kook-ah, are you drunk?”_

_“Pleasantly buzzed,” Jungkook quickly replies before he takes a sip of his drink and nods towards a slumping Mingyu. “Can’t say the same about him, though. He’s been like that for a while.”_

_Minghao sighs, tugging on his waistband. “Yeah, well, that’s why I’m here. Certified babysitter, here to take him home.”_

_Jungkook pouts. “How come_ you _don’t come out drinking with us?”_

_Eunwoo tuts his tongue from beside him. “He’s spending time with his boyfriend. They’re moving in together.”_

_Minghao has no idea if that’s supposed to be another taunting dig at him or not but he doesn’t feel like retorting. He glances at Mingyu’s drunken form again, wondering just how quickly Mingyu had told Eunwoo about him moving out._

_“Oh, that’s serious! Congrats, bro!” Jungkook exclaims, holding up his glass again. Minghao hates how he has an easier time believing Jungkook’s sincerity than he did Mingyu’s. “Are you going to introduce us?”_

_Minghao chuckles. “Maybe if you’re good.” He leans over to grab at Mingyu’s arm._

_As Minghao hoists Mingyu up with the help of Seungkwan, Jungkook presses more questions, “He’s older, right? Is that why you’re hiding him from us?”_

_Eunwoo lightly slaps Jungkook with the back of his hand, laughing. “You’re only saying that because you almost exclusively just hang out with older guys.”_

_“Which is how I would know,” Jungkook returns, shrugging shamelessly with a toothy grin. They turn their attention back to Minghao. “So?”_

_Minghao manages to sling Mingyu’s arm around his shoulder. “Yes, he’s older.”_ Even if he doesn’t act like it sometimes. _Jungkook and Eunwoo coo at him from behind._

_As Minghao gestures at Seungkwan to start walking away, he hears Jungkook call out, “Send us a selfie with him or something! Get home safe!” and Minghao makes a noise back, not seriously considering it._

_When they finish strapping Mingyu into one of the back seats and Minghao takes his seat in the passenger side, he looks over at the still-nervous-looking Seungkwan behind the wheel._

_“Kwan-ah, what’s wrong?”_

_“Hyung, you have a boyfriend?”_

_Minghao gulps. He almost forgot Seungkwan was there to hear everything. “They were just—” He considers lying, saying that Jungkook and Eunwoo were just drunkenly talking out of their ass. But that might be unfair. “Yeah, I do. That’s okay, isn’t it?” he breaches, just as hesitantly._

_Seungkwan nods, small and quick. “Yeah, it’s just, you never— how long have you been together?”_

_“About nine months now?”_

_“Oh.” Seungkwan turns to the front of the car. “Oh wow.”_

_Minghao reaches out for his shoulder. “I would’ve said something but….”_

_Seungkwan turns the engine on, nodding. “I know, hyung. If he makes you happy and you want to move in with him, I’m happy for you.”_

_“Thanks, Kwan-ah.”_

_+++_

_Getting a drunk Mingyu home was another feat in itself. They once again manage to toss his slurring form onto the couch. He’s not drowsy this time, just oddly fascinated by mundane things and far too chatty, pointing out all the random dogs he sees out for walks through his window._

_Seungkwan quickly leaves after helping to drop Mingyu off on the sofa, hugging Minghao before he does. Minghao goes over to the kitchen for a glass of water for Mingyu to drink._

_“Myungho-yah!” Mingyu calls, suddenly loud._

_“Yes, Mingyu, what is it? I’m here.” He brings the water over, holding it out to him but Mingyu shakes his head._

_“I wanna tell you something. It’s about your boyfriend,” Mingyu slurs, tossing around. “Moon. Jun. Hwi.”_

_Minghao sighs, placing the water on the table. “What_ about _Jun-hyung, Mingyu?” He’s not entirely sure how he feels about this, taking advantage of a drunken Mingyu to tell him things the regular Mingyu wouldn’t._

_“You know, you know, you know, you know what I heard?” Mingyu manages to stammer out._

_Minghao sits on the floor, bringing his knees up. “Mingyu, if this is another rumor about Jun-hyung, I don’t know if I want to hear it. The last ones told me were completely wrong and I don’t know why you still believe them. If you’re just looking for reasons to dislike Jun-hyung—”_

_“Shh!” Mingyu sounds loud, almost annoyed at Minghao for responding when he asked. His drunken self leans back. “I heard… Moon Junhwi was being offered a movie contract.”_

_Minghao frowns. This sounds like something Junhui would have mentioned but this is the first Minghao’s hearing of it. “Movie contract? From where?”_

_“From, from, from… Hen-dan.”_

_“Hengdian?” Minghao guesses. The studio in Dongyang Junhui just came back from._

_“That’s what I said!” Mingyu whines, pouting._

_“Who did you hear that from?” Minghao asks, trying to sound as close to a kindergarten teacher as possible._

_“Just. The other models and stuff,” Mingyu continues whining, eyes closed and eyes scrunching up. “Jaehyunnie said he heard something like that. He told me.”_

_Minghao sighs. “Mingyu.” He doesn’t know what to think, that even drunk, Mingyu would cling onto a baseless rumor about Junhui just because he didn’t like him. “You shouldn’t, you shouldn’t make things up just because you don’t like Jun-hyung.”_

_“I’m not making it up!” Mingyu protests, whining again and kicking his feet like an upset child._

_“You made the other ones up,” Minghao accuses, voice still soft._

_Mingyu groans, head tossing about on the couch again. “Yeah, but that’s because—” His eyes flicker to Minghao, causing him to stop and frown to himself, pouting._

_Minghao doesn’t know if Mingyu’s realized he admitted to making up the rumors about Junhui before. Minghao didn’t actually know if Mingyu did or not; it was always just an inkling he had ever since he asked Junhui about it. But Mingyu confirming it causes a stir in Minghao’s stomach rather than being relieved at being proven right._

_Mingyu sighs and grabs the nearest couch pillow, hugging the small stuffed square to his large frame. “He’s taking you away,” he finally says with a whiny pout, drawing his knees closer to curl into himself._

_Minghao chuckles, patting Mingyu’s shin. “Jun-hyung isn’t taking me away, Mingyu. I told you we’re still friends and I’d still visit you. You said you understood.”_

_“I do but,” Mingyu continues pouting, shifting himself on the couch a little and bringing his legs closer, “he’s taking you away from me.”_

_“Mingyu.” Minghao starts feeling like he really is talking to a stubborn toddler. He pats Mingyu’s knee in hopes of being reassuring. “Jun-hyung isn’t taking me away from you. The only thing that changes about our relationship is where I live. He’s not forcing me to live with him,_ I want to. _Okay?”_

_Mingyu stares at him, eyes drowsy and head bobbing as he still clings to the couch pillow. “I don’t like it.”_

_“You don’t have to like it,” Minghao says, shaking his head and holding up the glass of water again. “You just have to accept it.”_

_Mingyu’s bottom lip pushes out in a full pout, eyes wide and full of worry, like that kid in the store being told they can’t buy what they want. He takes the glass of water and chugs it anyway. When he hands it back to Minghao, he lets Minghao convince him to get changed and go to bed._

_As he helps, Minghao can’t help but wonder about the rumor Mingyu mentioned. He knows it may just be another one of Mingyu’s fake claims but he has an odd feeling about this one pulsing at his skin, as if itching at him to scratch it. He supposes he could just ask Junhui again about it._

_Worst case scenario is that Mingyu is just drunkenly lying again, right?_

_+++_

_Almost a week goes by in a blur of packing for Minghao as he starts putting his belongings in boxes to bring over to Junhui’s. He figures it’s best to go in waves so that he doesn’t have to dump everything there all at once._

_When Junhui and Jisoo had come back, Seungcheol had generously given them about a week to rest. Junhui would’ve unpacked Minghao’s things for him but he said he felt weird if he tried touching Minghao’s stuff without him around so unpacking only really happened when Minghao got home._

_“Ah, Jun-ah, you never told me how it was in Dongyang,” Minghao says, kneeling as he opens up one of his cardboard boxes with some scissors Junhui brought out from a drawer._

_Junhui looks up from across the box. “I didn’t? Oh, well, it was mostly filming or back to the apartment. I didn’t get to see much of Dongyang itself, really,” he muses, digging into the box, pulling out something small wrapped in newspaper. He shrugs. “It was work.”_

_“Oh.” Mingyu’s slurred words pump back into Minghao’s brain, itching. “The studio staff and everything were okay?”_

_“Yeah, they were nice, we went out for dinner as a group a few times. Nothing really out of the ordinary or exciting to mention,” Junhui replies, pouting. “You sound like you’re fishing for something. Is there anything specific you’re looking for?”_

_Minghao clears his throat. “Did anyone mention if they wanted to work with you in the future? Like for another series or a movie or anything?”_

_“Oh.” Junhui’s expression drops, staring at one of the box flaps as he scratches at a spot behind his ear. “Well, they said it was nice having me there for their drama but they weren’t really interested beyond that.”_

_Minghao frowns. “Really?”_

_“It’s okay, it was a good experience though!” Junhui rushes to reassure, fingers once again playing with the triangular earring dangling there. “It just wasn’t my time, I guess. Maybe another day,” he says, unwrapping Minghao’s rice bowl from the newspaper coverings._

_Minghao gives a low hum. “Oh, that’s too bad. I thought I heard someone say they might’ve wanted you on for more projects.”_

_Junhui stares at him, face blank and large eyes blinking away at him. His bottom lip comes out in a slight pout. “No, nothing like that happened.”_

_“You sure?”_

_After a beat, Junhui quickly nods. “Of course. If there was, I would tell you.”_

_Minghao watches Junhui’s face, hoping there would be some sort of sign or tell, anything that would ease the feeling in his stomach. “So Mingyu heard wrong?”_

_“Ah, Mingyu-ssi heard it?” Junhui asks, setting the rice bowl aside to dig for more of Minghao’s belongings to unpack from the box. “Yes, Mingyu-ssi heard wrong.”_

_+++_

_Minghao steps out of Seungcheol’s office two days later, the paperwork for his promotion already signed and ready to take place since he accepted Seungcheol’s proposition weeks ago. There were a few more kinks Seungcheol wanted to iron out with Chan’s assistance, especially before they started the process of picking out an assistant._

_Junhui still has the week off so Minghao is heading down to the lobby on his own. Somehow, despite not seeing him in the months when he was still a mystery to Minghao, he manages to run into Myungsoo again._

_“Hey, Eisa, congratulations!” Myungsoo exclaims, holding up a hand in greeting for him to clap._

_“Hyung! You heard about my promotion talk?” Minghao teases, returning the gesture._

_Myungsoo is stunned for a second, head tilting. “What? Oh, I guess that’s also good. Congratulations then!”_

_Minghao blinks. “What do you mean also? What were you congratulating me for to begin with?”_

_“You and Junhwi,” Myungsoo states plainly, blinking. “Junhwi got offered a contract deal in Jinhua where he just did that drama, right? He’s supposed to go back for promotions after post-production and they want to work with him for a few more years for a movie series or something? Aren’t you going with him?”_

_Minghao’s heart squeezes. He shakes his head. “I uh, when did you find that out?”_

_“Last week or so? Director Siwon-nim mentioned it.” Myungsoo's head tilts again. “Did Junhwi not tell you?”_

_Minghao’s head shakes again. “He didn’t.” Not even when Minghao asked him about it_

_“Oh,” Myungsoo says sadly, lips coming up in a slight pout._

_Minghao takes a deep breath. “What exactly is the contract about?”_

_Myungsoo looks worried, guilty even, but Minghao presses that he needs to know. Myungsoo says, in careful and cautious words all the things Minghao was scared to hear. That apparently the staff and senior actors loved him over there, that they were ready to offer Junhui roles he’d be working, waiting for, that it was everything Junhui wanted, everything he was dreaming of, all within a minimum three-year contract._

_Minghao’s chest feels heavy, head swirling with a disgusting dizzy feeling. He's not sure how he couldn’t tell before._

Junhui’s a bad liar, _he reminds himself._ He always was.

_Minghao also realizes, with an unsettling drop in his chest, that there’s only one reason Junhui would lie about something like that._

_+++_

_Minghao texts Junhui that he’s going back to his apartment today first and Junhui sends a simple_ ‘ok!!’ _with a happy emoji._

_When Minghao gets there, walls half-empty of things Minghao had claimed to take with him when he moved in with Junhui, he looks around for his soon-to-be former roommate. Whatever he’s thinking right now, everything he learned from Myungsoo, Minghao just thinks he needs to talk it out with someone first before he goes making any rash decisions._

_As Minghao wanders further into the apartment, he spots another of his cardboard boxes sitting outside his open room._

_Mingyu emerges from his own room, rubbing the heel of his palm into his eye. “Hey,” he says when he spots Minghao, lowering his hand._

_“How's your head?” Minghao asks._

_Mingyu groans, continuing his path to the kitchen. “Was I that drunk that you think my hangover would last a week? But it’s fine now, thanks for asking.” He pops his head in the fridge, looking for something. He retreats from it with a cola can, settling with it on the table. Their small white, round breakfast table._

_“About that,” Minghao says, feeling nervous all of a sudden, following him._

_It’s weird that this would’ve been something he'd be doing with Mingyu if everything was normal, asking for advice about his boyfriend. Instead, he’d hoped it would be about something more mundane, like that they have conflicting tastes in movies or that Junhui hogs too much of the bed. Nothing like this. It's a strange, melancholic feeling._

_“I wanted to ask you about something,” he breaches carefully, settling across Mingyu._

_Mingyu pops the can open with an offensive hiss, not looking away from Minghao’s face, concerned. “Sure.”_

_Minghao lets out a breath, the feeling unusually tense in his lungs. “You uh, you don’t remember anything from that night, do you? When you were drunk?”_

_Mingyu’s brow furrows as he tips the cola can into his mouth. “No, not really. I remember drinking with Eunwoo and Jungkook-ah and then it's just blank until I woke up.” He shrugs, fingers drumming along the table. “Thanks for taking care of me again.”_

_“Okay,” Minghao breathes out, pressing his nails into his palm in short bursts._

_Mingyu doesn’t seem to take this as a good sign and his frown deepens. “Why? Did I say something?”_

_There’s a scoff that erupts from Minghao’s throat. “You talked about Jun-hyung.” He takes a deep breath. “Which is why I wanted to talk to you.”_

_Mingyu’s face grimaces, like a kid getting ready to be lectured, and rushes a preemptive explanation, “Myungho, look, I’m sorry. I don’t—”_

_Minghao holds a hand up to stop him. “Let me talk, Mingyu. I just, I need your advice with something.”_

_“Oh.” Mingyu’s posture straightens, holding his cola can with both hands, almost proper. “Sure, what is it?”_

_Minghao scrunches his eyes closed for a second, fingers drumming away at the table, Myungsoo’s words hammering in his head. “If you loved someone, like you_ really _loved them, and you knew that the best thing for them was for you to not be together, you'd let them go, right? No matter how much you want to be together?” Minghao stares at his fingers, slows their speed down. He knows it likely wasn't the most eloquent way to phrase his thoughts, clunky and half-finished. His brain is still busy bouncing Myungsoo's words around with his worries about Junhui._

_In a way, Minghao feels he already knows the answer, he knows what the right thing to do is here. But for one reason or another, he wants to hear it from another person, from his best friend that he still trusts despite everything, in a reassurance of his thoughts._

_He hears Mingyu take a deep breath in, hears the dull tapping of his fingernails against the metal tin, still heavy with liquid, but he doesn’t look. Minghao doesn’t want Mingyu to see his face._

_“If I really loved them, then yeah,” Mingyu finally replies, voice slow and heavy with something of his own, almost cautious, “I’d let them go.”_

_Minghao exhales, the breath feeling like he’d been holding it for far too long, his head drooping. “Okay.” He gets up from the table. “Okay,” he repeats, nodding to himself._

_He heads to his room, looking for his luggage bag buried in the closet. There’s no point in getting more cardboard boxes. Ignoring Mingyu’s questioning calls of his name, Minghao heads towards the door, grabbing his shoes. Minghao knows what he has to do, and he has to do it now before he loses the burst of conviction he got from Mingyu’s reassurance._

_Prolonging it would make it worse._

_He knows how Junhui is; no matter how he looks at it, there’s no way Junhui would leave Seoul again for that long, not even for his dream, as long as they were connected. Especially not after he knew Minghao was finally building his career here._

_Minghao heads to Junhui’s apartment._

*****

“I was just, I was wondering when I lost you.” 

Minghao stares, heart rumbling at the pure wistful sincerity of Junhui’s tone, and he’s not sure how to answer. He’s not sure what he’s supposed to do when Junhui’s smiling so gentle and fondly like that when talking about him. His mouth feels dry. 

Minghao desperately wants to tell Junhui that he never lost him, that Minghao’s been stupidly in love with him for a stupidly long time, that he doesn’t think he ever stopped. 

He thinks it would be really easy, cathartic even, to tell Junhui those exact words and kiss him against the wall he’s leaning on. Pretend everything would play out the way it did in his movies.

But Minghao also thinks that would be unfair, considering their situation now, considering the other person this studio belongs to. 

“[Junhui, I—]” Minghao starts, voice slightly strained as it mixes with a sigh. “That’s not—” _fair._

Junhui flinches, as if realizing from Minghao’s tone. “Sorry. That’s probably a really weird thing to say now.” He forces out a laugh, tugging the sleeves of his sweater over his hands. He looks towards the floor and once again tries to press himself further into the wall. As if, once again, trying to create as much distance between himself and Minghao as possible after just trying to draw him close. “I shouldn’t have—” 

Minghao offers a nervous smile of his own. “It’s okay,” he says for a lack of a better response. He was the one who asked, after all. He looks down at his wrist again, the metallic sunflower gleaming back at him. He wonders, if in another life, he’d be able to give Junhui his first answer, if he even would have had to answer that at all. “I’m sorry,” he offers as his own blanket statement, the words he couldn't say when they last spoke this seriously in this room. 

He’s sorry he pushed this, he’s sorry he pursued Junhui first, he’s sorry he brought Junhui into a love he couldn’t keep. He’s sorry it ended. He’s sorry he broke his promises, that he couldn’t be more selfish and hold on as stubbornly as his heart holds on now. He’s sorry they were always getting the timing wrong. He’s sorry they don’t have a second chance. 

Junhui’s attention snaps back up to Minghao’s face. “No, don’t,” he murmurs in the same tone he used earlier, tucking his hands behind himself. “Don’t apologize.”

The way Junhui is looking at the floor, with the same weight that he looked at Minghao earlier, cuts any further objections in Minghao’s throat. He doesn’t want to interrupt whatever thoughts Junhui has this time. 

“We were really something, huh?” It’s the same soft wistful tone, still cracking at the edges of Minghao’s heart. 

He returns the smile as best he can, pained and forceful. “Yeah, we were.” It stings more than he thought it would, using the past tense out loud like this with Junhui after all this time. 

Junhui takes a deep breath, staring back at Minghao again, still searching for something. “It just….”

“Wasn’t meant to stay,” Minghao finishes, tilting his head almost questioningly.

Junhui’s lips press into a line as he nods, somewhat shy. “Yeah, that.” He clears his throat. “We uh, we can still be friends, though, right? I meant what I said before, about that.”

_“You were… a really important person to me and an important part of my life. I mean, I thought— I don't want to lose that just because I— we messed up years ago.”_

Minghao hurriedly nods. “Yeah, of course.” He looks over at the other desk again, letting out a long breath. His hand clamps around the wrist carrying the bracelet. The past was behind them now, right? That’s what everything meant. “We can be friends.”

His answer seems to satisfy Junhui, as he presses himself off the wall with what feels like an embarrassed smile. He makes his way back to his borrowed chair, gathering his jacket draped over the back. 

“Uh, I know it’s your birthday and all so you can totally say no to this if you already have plans later,” Junhui starts, hugging his jacket close to himself and teetering his weight on his toes again. “But I’m having dinner and drinks today with Heechullie-hyung and one of the new acting head directors, if you’d like to come.” He quickly glances up at Minghao. “As friends, of course.” 

“Oh.” Minghao doesn’t think Mingyu mentioned anything about a birthday celebration today, the ass. Then again, he’s not sure how closely Mingyu was sticking to the whole _“don’t call me again unless you’ve told Moon Junhwi those exact words”_ thing. And he’d technically be having dinner with Junhui, he’s not about to say no to spending more time with him now. “Sure, okay. As friends.” 

Junhui brightens, rolling the chair back in its proper place. He skips over to the doorway, waiting for Minghao to shut his computer system down and join him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [twitter ](https://twitter.com/paishhao) | [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.qa/paishhao)


	15. Burn everything you throw at me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sorry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Mandarin.] Chapter title is from Danger by Super Junior D&E

On the walk to the restaurant where Junhui is supposedly meeting Heechul, Minghao decides to ask, “Is Shua-hyung not driving you there?”

Junhui shakes his head, pulling the collar of his peacoat closer around his neck, teeth clattering. “Nah, I told him he didn’t have to bother. I wanted him to have his own free time too. It’s not that far anyway.”

“Ah.” Minghao isn’t sure how Junhui got cold so easily. He digs into his jacket pockets for his pair of leather gloves and passes them to Junhui. “You’re cold,” he says, not giving room for any chance at argument as he tucks his own hands into his coat pockets. 

The corner of Junhui’s lips pull into a smile, eyes lighting up as he takes them. “Thanks.” He quickly puts them on, grabbing at Minghao’s elbow. “We turn here,” he mumbles, pulling him along the street corner. 

Minghao lets himself be led down the streets by Junhui, noting how Junhui still hasn’t let go of his elbow as they pass by various hair salons, small restaurants and bakeries.

“So you’ve been okay lately, right?” Junhui prods all of a sudden, voice high and curious and gentle.

“Huh? Yeah,” Minghao answers, frowning, “why do you ask?”

Junhui hugs himself closer to Minghao’s arm. Out of being chilly or out of habit, Minghao isn’t sure and he’s not going to complain either. “When I was talking to Hansollie, he mentioned being worried that you were sort of weird whenever he saw you. I didn’t really notice what he was talking about so I didn’t know if I should mention it to you, I just hoped the tea was helping if there really was something wrong.”

Minghao feels his face drop. There are too many things that occur to Minghao then. First is the notion that of course Junhui wouldn’t notice if Minghao was somehow sour because, like a lovesick idiot, Minghao’s mood generally shifted once Junhui was around. Second is that Junhui was bringing him tea to help his mood. If he didn’t know better, he’d let himself believe it was because Junhui was still taking care of him, not because of his next point.

Third is that, of course Hansol would be talking to Junhui about his worries like that. _They’re together now, they’re official,_ he reminds himself. Fourth is the fear that he really had that poor of a handle on his emotions regarding the situation that he’d come off rude to Hansol without meaning to. He needs to get a better handle on this.

“Oh. N-no, I’ve been fine. Tell Hansol-ah I’m sorry.”

Junhui giggles, leaning forward to peer at Minghao’s face. “You’re his boss, aren’t you? You can just tell him when you see him, right?”

Minghao does his best to ignore the dark feeling in his stomach. “Right.” 

The restaurant that Junhui stops them at seems to be a Japanese-based restaurant specializing in ramen. It’s bright and decently-sized and not that crowded. When they get in, Junhui cheerfully supplies to the staff that they’re there to meet Kim Heechul. They’re brought to a table near the back of the restaurant, secluded and walled off enough to give them ample privacy. When the door slides open, at the table is exactly who Junhui said would be there.

“Dad!”

“Son!” Heechul immediately stands up from his seat, arms outstretched and a wide grin on his face. 

In turn, Junhui rushes at him, arms enveloping Heechul's back and hopping in excitement, lifting Heechul’s feet off the floor. Minghao has no choice but to awkwardly stand at the side, taking off his jacket as he waits for them to finish. It’s heart-warming and nostalgic in a way that makes Minghao wonder when was the last time they saw each other. 

“They’re doing this again, are they?” a voice asks from beside Minghao. When he looks, it’s the unmistakable Japanese manga-looking face he hasn’t seen in years.

“L-hyung?” 

Myungsoo grins. “Hey, Eisa. Long time, no see.”

“Yeah,” he huffs out, “it has.” It’s a bit odd, how Minghao’s realizing just how many people in Junhui’s world he stopped talking to. 

“I didn’t know you’d be at this dinner,” Myungsoo continues, head tilting slightly. 

“Jun-hyung invited me,” Minghao responds, making a half-hearted gesture at them. “I didn’t know you’d be here either. He just said he was having dinner with Heechul-hyung.”

Myungsoo’s eyes light up a bit. “Ah, well, it’s still good to see you.”

“Yah! Myungsoo!” Heechul calls, having finally been released from a still-excited Junhui, who is just hugging his arm instead. He goes over and slings an arm around Myungsoo’s shoulders. “And Froggie,” he says, finally addressing him. “Nice to see you.”

Minghao bows his head. “Thanks, hyung.”

Heechul gestures for them to take their seats, Minghao and Junhui sitting across from Myungsoo and Heechul respectively. After Junhui cheerfully tells Heechul that it’s Minghao’s birthday, Heechul decides to treat the table to some celebratory drinks. 

He orders a round of Jinro beer, a brand with a blue frog mascot on it that he was recently hired as a spokesperson for, and Minghao can’t help but chuckle. 

“It’s a coincidence, I swear!” Heechul claims, laughing. 

After getting that out of the way, they start ordering different types of ramen at Heechul’s recommendation. Minghao feels a twinge of guilt since Heechul is also offering to pay for them but goes along with it.

When the server comes with some glasses and a pitcher of water, Junhui takes it upon himself to pour and distribute the water glasses around the table. When there are two remaining, Junhui dumps the ice from one glass into another before pouring the water and placing the ice-less one in front of Minghao, taking the last one for himself. 

“Froggie, are you okay?” Heechul asks all of a sudden, watching him. “If the room is too warm, I can ask them to bring in a fan or something?” He tugs at the shell of one of his own ears.

Minghao mirrors his action, feeling it to be warmer than normal. Shit. “Oh, no uh, it’s okay, hyung,” he politely manages, hoping Myungsoo and Junhui aren’t staring at him. 

By the time their ramen starts coming in and they’re making their way through the beers, Heechul has launched into a story about how he loved Junhui’s drama and how it reminded him of one he used to watch all the time. He gets particularly happy when Junhui says he can introduce Heechul to the actress of that series since they worked on a movie together afterwards. 

Myungsoo talks about how he actually left the company for a bit to try acting in dramas somewhere else before eventually coming back after Siwon left and Heechul asked him if he’d want to take over his position. Junhui has a fun time gushing over Myungsoo’s role as a cat for one mini-series. Minghao thinks it’s a little unfair how wonderfully bright Junhui looks as he does, pure smile and eyes sparkling. It really isn’t fair.

When Minghao tries to ask what happened to Siwon, Heechul sighs and waves a hand around, claiming that Siwon left to start his own company as an ambassador or something that Minghao doesn’t fully hear as Junhui leans over to tell him in Mandarin that his ramen isn’t as spicy and offers to swap bowls if Minghao’s is too spicy for him. Minghao quickly shakes his head and assures him it’s fine.

“I’m really glad you two are back together,” Myungsoo comments suddenly, reaching across the table for the small bowl of string beans. “Did Woohyunnie-hyung ever give you my message?” 

Minghao catches the movement of Heechul’s eyes cautiously moving back and forth between himself and Junhui slowly, brow twitching slightly before he blows on his spoonful of ramen and shoves it in his mouth. 

“Woohyunnie-hyung?” Minghao repeats, not bothering to correct the assumption.

It seems Junhui isn’t going to say anything either, eyes turning away before he tilts his bowl into his mouth to slurp at some broth.

“From musical theatre. I told him that if he ever saw you, to tell you I said hi and that I was sorry.” Myungsoo frowns, expression turning worried. “From the look on your face, I take it he didn’t. That idiot. I even told him it’d be easy to remember since our names are similar.”

Minghao feels his heart squeeze and the color draining from his face. “What, what do you mean you’re sorry?”

Myungsoo looks at Junhui briefly before returning his attention to Minghao. “For what happened before. I heard you guys broke up the day after and I felt bad because I thought it was my—”

 _“What?”_ Junhui cuts in, voice unusually dark, aimed in Myungsoo’s direction, pulling his beer away from his lips. Then he turns on Minghao. “What does he mean? What happened?”

Minghao takes a quick gulp. “Jun—”

“I talked to Myungho before you left,” Myungsoo replies, seemingly oblivious to the situation.

There are few times Minghao has seen Junhui _actually_ angry. This feels like one of them. “About what?” he asks, still looking at Myungsoo for a few seconds, then he turns to Minghao again. “What’s he talking about?”

“Jun,” Heechul starts in a warning tone, watching him with firm eyes. Minghao quietly thanks him because he needs more time to gather his thoughts.

“What does he mean we broke up the day after?” Junhui tries again, ignoring him. “Is he why we broke up? Did he tell you to break up with me? [Minghao!]” 

“Jun, calm down,” Heechul continues on the side. 

“I didn’t tell him that specifically,” Myungsoo says, somehow still choosing to answer Junhui anyway, despite the atmosphere. “I just… thought you already talked to him.”

Junhui turns to Myungsoo. “What are you talking about? What did you say?”

Minghao can’t let Junhui do this, he can’t let Junhui fight with the new director of the acting department and stain his career before it really starts in this market. _“[Junhui!]”_

Junhui finally stops and turns to him, eyes shaking. 

Minghao taps his shoulder and starts getting up, scooping his jacket in his arms. “Come with me.” When he looks back, Junhui is still sitting there, frozen, staring at Myungsoo. “ _Now._ ”

Junhui huffs, gathering his jacket and standing up, heading out of their dining room and towards the exit. Minghao turns back to Heechul and Myungsoo and bows. “Excuse us, sorry for the interruption.”

Despite looking concerned, Heechul waves him off. “Happy birthday, kid.”

Minghao presses his cheeks up in a nervous smile and bows his head again towards Myungsoo. “Please don’t take this as anything against Junhwi-hyung.”

Myungsoo chuckles, reaching for his beer. “I won’t.” His tone is light but it somehow tells Minghao all he needs to know; that Myungsoo still sees Junhui as his friend, that he knows Minghao has a major mess he has to fix. “Good luck, Eisa.”

Minghao bows again and scurries outside to meet Junhui, pulling his jacket against his neck. “[Junhui, go home.]”

“[What? Minghao, no. Not until you tell me what he was talking about,]” Junhui says with a strained, broken vulnerability and desperation that seizes Minghao’s heart. He did this to him.

“[Junhui, not now. You’re drunk, please,]” Minghao tries, pushing against Junhui’s arm. “I’ll call Shua-hyung to come get you.”

“[No, Minghao, listen to me.]” Junhui’s voice is broken again, teetering on the edge of something. “[You’re always saying ‘not now’ but you never _actually_ told me what happened back then. I’ve thought about it so many times for years and years and I could never figure it out.]”

Minghao takes a deep breath through his teeth, the brisk air slicing against his lungs. 

Junhui starts shaking his head, likely sensing his hesitation. “[Please. I just need to know. That’s all I want from you. I need to understand.]”

Minghao’s an idiot. Blind and selfish. He went and sought closure all on his own, never offering the same to Junhui, refusing it even. Mingyu’s words from months ago start coming back to him, ringing in his ear.

 _“Look, you’ve had the luxury of knowing that Junhwi loved you and that everything was real this entire time. Junhwi probably reacted the way he did today because he didn’t get the same.”_

Minghao releases a heavy breath from his lungs, watching it turn into strained wisps in the air. “[I know, Junhui, I’m sorry. I’ll tell you everything. Soon, okay? Just… not while you’re drunk. Go home, please,]” he urges, locking his gaze. 

“[Minghao, promise me we’ll talk.]”

Minghao falters, swallowing his guilt down. “[Yes, Junhui, I promise you.] Now please, let Shua-hyung take you home,” he says, pulling out his phone and looking for Jisoo’s contact card.

Junhui stares at him, desperation and loss lining his every feature as he takes a deep breath. He relents, nodding as he nibbles at his bottom lip, finally looking away back towards the restaurant window and Minghao presses the call button.

*****

_Minghao had texted Junhui that he’d be going back to his apartment after work today, which Junhui just responded with a simple_ ‘ok!!’ _text and a happy emoji._

_He’d decided to drop by Wonwoo’s for a bit to hang out, pester him a little while he edits and watch with fascination while pretending he knows what Wonwoo’s doing. Wonwoo puts up with it well and Junhui wants to think it’s just because he’s happy to be spending time with him after their nearly five months apart._

_After a few hours, Junhui heads back up to his own apartment. When he punches in the passcode and opens the door, he’s met with the sounds of cluttering bouncing off the walls._

_“[HaoHao?]” Junhui calls into the apartment, looking around while he toes off his shoes. There’s an unsure feeling in Junhui’s stomach when he finds that the apartment looks too familiar, as if he hadn’t spent the last week unpacking Minghao’s things. It didn’t look like the shared space of a home he was supposed to be starting with Minghao._

_He passes through the kitchen, and follows an odd instinct to check for Minghao’s small rice bowl he’d made on one of their dates. It’s supposed to be in the cupboard next to Junhui’s tall cat vase. Junhui isn’t sure why he thinks the rice bowl will tell him something, but it feels like something close to Minghao._

_His stomach sinks when he can’t find it._

_He wanders further towards the sounds and finds Minghao walking around the bedroom, carrying a foam cleanser and putting it into an open —and almost full— luggage case on the floor. Full of the exact things he just helped Minghao unpack._

_“[HaoHao, what’s this?]”_

_Minghao stops walking, contemplative before his gaze moves to look at Junhui. “Jun-ah, I think we should break up.” And that’s when Junhui notices the red decorating Minghao’s eyes._

_“[HaoHao], what— what’s going on?”_

_Minghao sighs, tired and heavy. “We should break up.”_

_Junhui’s brain stops working, edges falling apart, trying to assure him this isn’t happening. “Wait, what? [HaoHao,] if this is another game where we’re just playing, it’s unusually cruel and I don’t like it.”_

_“I’m not playing a game, Jun, I’m serious. I think we should break up.”_

_“[HaoHao], where is this coming from?”_

_Minghao inhales slowly. “From us, Junhwi, it’s just—”_

_Junhui quickly shakes his head. Minghao never uses his Korean name. “Look.” He steps closer, cradling Minghao’s hands in his own and angling his head to look into his eyes. “Whatever it is, whatever you’re thinking, we’ll work through it like we always have. Just tell me what’s going on, we don’t have to break up.” He doesn’t understand. The Minghao he knows wouldn’t do this. The Minghao he knows promised to talk to him, tell him once something was wrong._

_Minghao’s eyes flicker, refusing to look at him. “Not this time, hyung. We have to break up. It’s just, it’s what’s best.”_

_“It’s what’s best?” Junhui echoes weakly, tasting how the words feel in his mouth. “Best for who?”_

_“Best for both of us,” Minghao answers almost immediately._

_Junhui’s hands drop, listless. “You don’t think_ you’re _what’s best for me?” The words tumble out of his mouth, brain unable to filter his thoughts anymore._

_Minghao doesn’t say anything, head shaking like he’s not sure what answer Junhui wants him to say._

_Junhui sighs, pushing his hair back and tapping the heel of his palm against his forehead repeatedly as he starts pacing back and forth. He feels restless, unable to settle, not sure what to do with himself. “Am I not what’s best for_ you? _This isn’t all about me, I—” His chest seizes, strangling, suffocating._

 _Minghao sighs again. Junhui wishes he would start lecturing him, scold him, tell him he’s stupid, that they’re just playing again,_ something. _But he keeps quietly staring, watching Junhui implode on himself. Junhui thinks it’s particularly cruel._

_“If this is about moving in with me or money, I’ll take up more jobs, support you and I—” His brain filter is officially gone. Tired, given up. “This isn’t how it was supposed to go.” Junhui stops pacing as he breathes out, “I was supposed to marry you.”_

_Minghao’s expression falters, turning away, unable to look at Junhui anymore._

_Junhui doesn’t have a ring prepared._

_He never thought that far._

_Instead, all he has is a silver mesh bracelet he picked out in Dongyang, hidden at the back of the closet, meant for Minghao’s birthday coming up._

_Junhui had joked about it once but marrying Minghao was something he had seriously been thinking about for a while, when he was away filming, even if he hadn’t told Minghao about it yet. He knew he’d have to wait a bit longer before mentioning it._

_He thought that when they had lived together for a few months, when they had gotten more comfortable, more serious, Junhui was going to talk to Minghao’s mother again. He was going to tell her about how he was going to take care of Minghao because Minghao was the only person in the world Junhui would round up for, ask her if she’d be okay with that, if she thought he was good enough for her son. Because he was so sure that his feelings for Minghao weren’t going to change for several years to come, that he didn’t want to wait to spend their lives together if he already knew now._

_Junhui didn’t think he’d be revealing his intentions to Minghao like this. And he certainly didn’t think that it’d be unwanted._

_Maybe he was just naive, thinking_ — believing— _that this was the only direction their relationship would go. Because that was their reality; Junhui was so busy thinking about a future for them together that he didn’t notice Minghao wasn’t thinking the same._

_Junhui’s heart continues pounding and it starts sinking in just how much Minghao doesn’t show him, doesn’t say or tell anyone. Junhui wishes he had paid more attention, had more time to decipher all of it, study Minghao a bit longer, imprint himself deeper in Minghao’s mind, Minghao’s heart, wrap around and wind himself so tightly that separation would never be an option._

_He wonders why it’s so easy for Minghao to throw out everything they were like this, if there’s something he missed._

_He thought he understood Minghao, thought he knew Minghao better than anyone. But maybe that was just another thing Junhui had been naive about, foolishly losing himself in a love all alone. He wonders, in a deep corner of his mind, if he hadn’t taken that role and left for the months that he did, if Minghao had fallen out of love with him while he was away, if Minghao had only agreed to move in with him to pretend he still loved him._

_Junhui wishes he knew when it happened, how he could have stopped it, if he could even at all._

_“I can’t be with you, Moon Junhwi. I can’t do this. We have to break up,” Minghao finally says, tone low. Junhui flinches at the name and the formality in his language, that last line in the sand telling Junhui not to cross. “You don’t want to marry me.”_

_“Yes, I do.”_ Please. _“I love you, [HaoHao], I’m in love with you.”_ Please, please. _“You said you loved me too.”_

 _Minghao doesn’t say anything for a few seconds. The silence feels like it stretches long enough to let Junhui hope for one last time, that his words still mean something to Minghao, that_ he _still means something to Minghao, that Minghao still wants him and that this was all just some twisted game._

_“You can’t call me that anymore,” Minghao says, bending down to zip up his luggage._

Stop talking, Junhui.

_Junhui feels his blood running cold, every warm feeling and blissful memory freezing in his veins. This isn’t the person Junhui knew, the one who spent so much time at Junhui’s apartment, who visited Junhui on sets to talk him through his worries, the one Junhui brought to Muchangpo beach._

_The person in front of him isn’t any of those things._

_For a few moments, Junhui wonders if he ever really knew Minghao at all._

_“Goodbye, Junhwi-ssi.”_

_As Minghao’s leaving, Junhui thinks Minghao starts saying something else but Junhui’s brain still isn't cooperating, not willing to figure out the sounds, regardless what language._

_Maybe it doesn't matter._

_Because nothing Minghao_ says _matters anymore._

 _Nothing Minghao made him believe in_ matters _anymore._

_And Minghao, Junhui thinks to himself, he doesn’t know if Minghao matters anymore._

_The apartment door clicks closed, the signal that Minghao has left him, truly_ left _him. The air pierces Junhui’s lungs and he collapses down on the bed, legs unwilling to hold him up any longer. His hand wipes at the stinging at his eyes that he soon realizes are tears, ugly, fast and uncontrollable._

_Junhui stares at the door, slowly realizing that Minghao isn’t coming back. He’s alone, with his dull beating heart, broken along with whatever dreams he had of a future with Minghao. It soon gets replaced with a low pulsing regret as he pulls out his phone._

_He can’t stay here anymore. He doesn’t_ have _a reason to be here anymore._

_Jisoo picks up on the second ring._

*****

Wonwoo is a bit surprised when he gets a phone call from Jisoo.

Jisoo calling him was a pretty rare occurrence, usually whenever something happened to Junhui that Jisoo couldn’t handle on his own. And Jisoo can handle a lot of things.

 _“He’s been drinking and he's upset,”_ Jisoo says over the phone. _“I just picked him up from dinner with Myungho and Heechul-hyungnim. Do you mind if I bring him to your place? He might need someone to watch over him.”_

Wonwoo glances over at his guest, the back of Mingyu’s head as he’s decided to play with Wonwoo’s editing software once he’d waddled his chair away. “Uh, sure, I don’t mind. Let me know when you’re outside, I’ll let you in,” he says, looking towards the door in anticipation. He hangs up when Jisoo calls an affirmative and finds Mingyu looking at him.

“You having more people over?” he asks, brow furrowing in concern.

Wonwoo shakes his head, getting out of his chair. “That was Junnie’s manager. Says Junnie’s been drinking and he’s dropping him off here. Neither of us think it’s a good idea to leave a drunk Junnie alone.” Wonwoo almost makes a joke about how Junhui needs Wonwoo to take care of him but figures it’s irrelevant for his current audience. 

Mingyu chuckles. “That’s fair. Need any help?”

“No, it’s fine. You can sit down,” Wonwoo offers, waving a hand around in the direction of his chair. “You’ve been standing for a while.”

When Jisoo brings Junhui in, he doesn’t seem to be as drunk as Wonwoo feared, just slightly irritated if not tipsy. Jisoo passes him over to Wonwoo, smiling politely at Mingyu who seems to appear out of nowhere to watch Wonwoo walk Junhui over to the couch. 

“Wonwoo-yah?” Junhui tentatively asks as they sit him down and Wonwoo crouches in front of him.

“Yes, Junnie?” 

Junhui slumps slightly forward, pressing the heel of his palm against his eye. “Myungho broke up with me.”

Wonwoo pauses, brow furrowing at the words Junhui hadn’t said in years. But the hurt and heaviness laced in his voice now sounds like the event happened just moments ago. “Yes, Junnie, I know,” he offers, heart swelling in sympathy. 

“No, you don’t,” Junhui returns, in a mix of broken tiredness and annoyed defeat. His hands fall into his lap and he looks off to the side. “But I don’t either so I guess it doesn’t matter.” 

Wonwoo pats at Junhui’s wrist, growing worried. “Did something happen today? I thought you were hanging out with Heechul-ssi. Why….” He trails off, unable to finish his thought.

Junhui squints, looking somewhere behind Wonwoo. “Hi, Mingyu-ssi.”

Wonwoo thinks he feels a shift in the floor behind him and realizes he doesn’t know how he’s going to comfort Junhui about Myungho while Mingyu is here. When he looks, Mingyu’s awkwardly standing there, waving in Junhui’s direction.

“I can get a pork bone soup ready, for his stomach,” Mingyu says towards Wonwoo, as if somehow reading his thoughts, and heads off to the kitchen. 

Wonwoo does a quick double-take between Mingyu’s retreating form and the still-irate Junhui, who seems upset enough to stop talking. He pats Junhui’s hand and quietly tells him he’ll be right back before following Mingyu to the kitchen.

“Hey, uh,” Wonwoo starts, watching Mingyu float around the kitchen looking for pots. “Not that I would accuse you of this, but you wouldn’t tell anyone about what Junnie said, right? About him and Myungho?”

Mingyu quickly glances over as he turns the stove on. “Huh? No, why would I?”

Wonwoo sighs, brushing his hair back. “I don’t know, really. Junnie was always pretty popular, even more so after his projects in China, so I’m always worried that anyone who finds out anything about him would sell that information for whatever reason.”

Mingyu doesn’t say anything, going to Wonwoo’s fridge to pull out a container of a golden-looking liquid that Wonwoo didn’t even know was there. “You think I’d go to a news outlet and say that Moon Junhwi was dating his photographer Myungho? For personal gain?”

“Well, I didn’t mean you specifically, just.” Wonwoo stalls, not sure how he wants to answer. “I don’t know.”

“No, it’s okay, I get what you mean,” Mingyu continues, still not looking away from his task of pouring the liquid into one of the smaller pots. “I don’t blame you for being paranoid. You’re a good friend for looking out for him. Don’t worry, I’m not going to say anything.” Mingyu’s tone is light and casual and carrying something Wonwoo doesn’t think he can even begin to understand. 

Wonwoo has a biting curiosity to ask why. But the more he thinks about it, the less it feels like it matters. Instead, he settles for, “Thank you.” He watches Mingyu some more as he starts pulling out a cutting board and some vegetables to chop up. “I’m gonna….” He gestures back at the couch Junhui is on, not sure why he feels unusually awkward.

“Yeah, okay,” Mingyu hurriedly replies, nodding with only a quick glance at him. “I’ll bring this out when it’s ready.”

Wonwoo nods, not sure why he feels hesitant to leave. There’s a weird twinge that Wonwoo can’t place, one that wants to stay and ask Mingyu more questions somehow. He can tell he’s lingered too long when Mingyu looks up with a look that’s clearly questioning why he’s still here. He takes that as his cue to rush off. 

“Junnie?” he asks, getting back to the couch. 

Junhui moves his head up to look at him, dull and slow. Like his head was too heavy and the movement was too tiresome.

“How are you feeling?”

Junhui grunts. “I’m not actually drunk. I had like, two beers because Heechullie-hyung was buying them but that’s it.”

Wonwoo frowns. “Then why did Shua-hyung say you were drunk and bring you here?”

Junhui clicks his tongue, folding his legs and grabbing a sofa cushion to hug. “Because Myungho told him I was. Which I’m not. For some reason, he thought I was.” He looks up at Wonwoo, a twinge of guilt flashing in his eyes. “I may have yelled at someone.” 

Wonwoo hums, patting Junhui’s hand again. “You mentioned Myungho breaking up with you earlier. Did you want to do another recording today?”

He notices Junhui’s throat moving in a gulp, eyes shaking before they move over in the direction of the kitchen. “No, it’s okay.” Junhui takes a deep breath, standing up and awkwardly adjusting the hem of his shirt. “I should go home. Whatever that means now,” he says, in that dull tone that worries Wonwoo more than anything.

As he’s about to ask what Junhui means, Junhui’s arms are around him in a tight hug, chin resting on his shoulder. “Junnie?”

“I’m really sleepy, Wonwoo-yah. I’m fine,” he says in a slight hum. 

Wonwoo is not wholly convinced, but he doesn't have it in him to argue when Junhui’s like this, too much like he’s hiding something fragile. “Do you need me to walk you up?”

Junhui lets go. “No, it’s okay. I need to be alone for a bit.” Wonwoo watches Junhui walk past the kitchen, popping his head in. “Mingyu-ssi! I’m going to head out now!” he calls at him. 

Wonwoo walks closer to watch them.

Mingyu turns away from the stove, whirling around to see Junhui. “Oh, but I was making soup for you. Thought it might help you feel better.”

Junhui’s face softens, stepping closer. “Aw, that’s very thoughtful of you. I already ate but if you leave some in Wonwoo’s fridge, I’ll probably have some later.”

Mingyu spots Wonwoo standing behind Junhui and beams proudly. Wonwoo mouths a _‘thank you’_ at him and Mingyu gives a small thumbs up before turning back to Junhui. “Sure, I’ll do that. Have a good night!”

Junhui bows his head a little. “Thanks.” The next thing Wonwoo knows, Junhui’s moved forward to hug Mingyu, surprising them both. “And thanks for before, I really appreciate it.”

Mingyu hugs back, tightly if Wonwoo’s seeing correctly. “Ah, no problem!” he says, beaming. “I hope it helped!”

Junhui nods, pulling away. He looks at Wonwoo again and heads towards the entry way for his shoes. “Well, see you!” He waves as he leaves.

Wonwoo turns to Mingyu, who has pulled out a tupperware container to scoop the soup into. “What was that about? You helped Junnie with something?”

Mingyu glances up, blinking. “Huh?” he asks innocently. “Just some model stuff. It’s a secret.”

“Well, thanks for doing this,” Wonwoo says, gesturing at him with a sincere smile. “You’re a really good friend.”

Mingyu raises a brow. “What? No, we’re not friends, I'm trying to date you.” 

_Oh._ Wonwoo chuckles, dipping his head down to recover from the words. “Is that what we’re doing?” he asks in hopes of hiding how his heart rate suddenly picked up.

“Yes,” Mingyu states flatly, sounding a little offended, “was that not apparent?”

“It really wasn’t.”

Mingyu rolls his eyes, trying to hold back a smile. “Okay, then I’ll clear things up. I’m trying to date you.”

“Trying,” Wonwoo echoes, smirking. “But you said we’re not friends so….” He shrugs.

Mingyu squints, pulling his lips together and shaking his head. “Nope. No, we’re not doing that. I’ve made that mistake before.”

“What mistake?” Wonwoo knows he shouldn’t pry but his curiosity has been piqued. And as the saying goes…. 

“Being friends with someone when I wanted to date them.”

“Ah,” Wonwoo says, tilting his head back in an exaggerated nod, looking at the sudden faraway look in Mingyu’s eyes. “Did it not end well?”

Mingyu shrugs. “I wouldn’t be here telling you I wanted to date you if it did.”

“Point taken.” Wonwoo pouts, not sure what to do. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Mingyu scrunches his face. “It was years ago, doesn’t really matter now,” he says, sighing off to the side before he recomposes himself. “Besides, I’d rather talk about you.”

“I’m pretty boring, though,” Wonwoo offers, shrugging. “What do you want to know?”

“Do you want to go on a date with me?”

Wonwoo gulps, unprepared for the increase in his heart rate. “Are you always like this?”

Mingyu shrugs again, smile poking at the corners of his lips. “Depends if it’s working or not.”

Before he realizes it, Wonwoo finds himself nodding. “Yeah, yeah it is.”

“Great,” Mingyu says, grin fully formed, “I’ll pick you up on Saturday then.”

*****

_After Minghao had suddenly left earlier with a luggage case and ignoring Mingyu trying to call his name, Mingyu decided that, as usual, it was going to be something Minghao wouldn’t tell him about._

_He decided to go grocery shopping instead on his own to clear his head. He thinks he has a pretty good routine with this anyway, mainly restocking vegetables he planned to use in soups and stocks later on._

_Mingyu’s been replaying his conversation with Minghao in his head over and over, the one just before Minghao suddenly left with a luggage case._

_The way Minghao spoke, the way he brought up the drinking Mingyu did last week, the question he asked before he left; Mingyu doesn’t know what to do with any of it. All he can conclude is that he must have said something to Minghao while he was drunk, that it must have been serious enough for Minghao to react the way he did._

“If you loved someone, like you _really_ loved them, and you knew that the best thing for them was for you to not be together, you'd let them go, right? No matter how much you want to be together?”

_Mingyu concludes that if he didn’t outright drunkenly confess, then he must have spewed out enough drunken nonsense for Minghao to piece that together on his own. And, presumably, bad-mouthing Minghao’s boyfriend in the process. The boyfriend that he was moving in with._

_And Minghao asking him this supposedly hypothetical question was his way of gently and subtly telling Mingyu that he knows about Mingyu’s feelings, he doesn’t return them — which Mingyu wasn’t expecting anyway— and to back off._

_Because Minghao, for all his blustering, genuinely wouldn’t say anything to specifically humiliate Mingyu. He knows that. Minghao was telling Mingyu there was no way it would happen and that Mingyu has to let him go. The weird thing is that Mingyu already knew that too. But figuring that out on his own and hearing Minghao definitely say it to him were two different things._

_Mingyu has about six plastic bags worth of vegetables when he gets home. As he punches in his passcode, he thinks to himself how he should start getting used to the idea of coming home to an empty apartment._

_When he opens the door, he’s greeted by the sight of Minghao pouring himself a glass of wine, in their living area, kneeling in front of their coffee table. The look in his eyes tells Mingyu that this isn’t his first or second glass._

_“Jesus fuck,” he mutters, sniffing the air as he toes off his shoes. “Myungho, what the hell happened in here?”_

_Minghao looks over and raises his glass, squished smile in place, eyes not entirely focused. “Well, Mingyu, I did it. I broke up with Jun-hyung. Bet you’re_ real _fucking happy about that, aren’t you?” he says bitterly, tilting the glass for a sip._

_Mingyu shoves his grocery bags on the kitchen counter and rushes over to grab the glass and wine bottle away from him. “Why would I be happy when you’re doing this to yourself, what the fuck?”_

_“You always hated Jun-hyung, don’t lie to me,” Minghao retorts, pouting and making grabby hands at the bottle and glass now in Mingyu’s hands behind his back._

_Mingyu brings both back to the kitchen before going over to push Minghao’s shoulders and get him to sit down. “Why did you break up with Junhwi?” he asks, trying to sound calming to his clearly irate friend._

_“Does it matter to you?” Minghao retorts again, slightly slurred. “You didn’t like him anyways.”_

_Mingyu resists the urge to roll his eyes, not wanting to go through this again, even with an inebriated Minghao. “I didn’t hate h—”_

_“I_ loved him, _Mingyu. Do you know that?” Minghao continues, head tossing around in his stupor._

_Mingyu nods, sighing. “Yes, Myungho, I do. Do you want to go to sleep?”_

_Minghao gasps. “I_ do, _” he says, voice filled with fascination, clapping his hands a bit under his chin._

_Mingyu claps a hand on his knee. “Okay then, let’s get you up and off to bed.” He lifts Minghao up by his arm, slinging it over his shoulder so he can walk his friend to his bed to sleep._

_On the walk to Minghao’s room, Minghao continues talking in slurred blurbs about Junhwi, how upset he was about breaking up with him, how he was going to miss him, and some odd facts about Junhwi’s face moles that Mingyu honestly could have done without._

_When he drops Minghao off on his bed, Minghao immediately closes his eyes, turning on his side to face the wall and curls into himself._

_Mingyu looks down at him and decides, since he was robbed of the choice to remember it the first time, he might as well do it again now, for himself. “Myungho-yah. Since I know you won’t listen to me when I tell your sober self,” he starts in a low tone, crouching down so he’s more level with Minghao’s head. “I didn’t hate Moon Junhwi. I just hated that you were dating him.”_

_Minghao doesn’t respond, still dozing off facing the wall._

_Mingyu thinks if there’s anything else he’d want to say while he has this chance. “Because I liked you, idiot, you just didn’t notice somehow. Or maybe you did and were too nice to say anything about it. It’s okay, it’s not like I was expecting you to like me back or anything, especially when I did such a shit job of handling it. Sorry about that.”_

_Minghao hums a mild noise, shifting a little in his sleep._

_“But at least you know now,” Mingyu continues, sighing. “I hope it won’t be too awkward between us now. I probably shouldn’t have gone off so much about you to Eunwoo. You’re still my best friend, it’s just… well, you get it, don’t you, Myungho-yah?_

_“It’s way easier to say things to you like this, who would’ve thought? Anyway, I promise I’ll be better about this whole thing now. I don’t know what happened with you and Junhwi and I don’t know if you’d ever tell me about it. I know how much you liked him so I’ll forgive you for swearing at me earlier,” he says with a small chuckle. “I’m not really sure what else to say. I’ll get a soup started so you don’t feel like absolute shit when you wake up.”_

_As Mingyu stands up and goes back to the kitchen to clean up, he starts wondering why Minghao would suddenly break up with Junhwi when he was so firm on his decision to move in with him before._

_He replays his conversation with Minghao before he left again, how concerned Minghao was with whatever Mingyu said when he was drunk. He hopes his drunken confession didn’t have anything to do with it._

*****

Hansol finds it interesting how much more excitable Seungkwan has become since they started dating. From what he understands, Seungkwan always had a lot of energy, but Hansol feels he seems more giddy when they meet and Hansol can’t help but feel proud of (hopefully) being able to cause that in him.

Which is why, when Seungkwan slides into the seat across him at the table of their regular coffee shop early in the morning, Hansol decides to ask, “Do you think we should tell Myungho-hyung about us?” 

“Huh?” Seungkwan looks up from sliding Hansol’s americano to him. “How come?” 

“Jun-hyung said it would be a good idea and when I thought about it, it made sense. He’s my boss and my hyung and you said you’re his favorite dongsaeng. Besides, I think he can already tell I’m hiding something, he’s been acting weird around me lately,” Hansol replies, sipping his coffee. “But if you’re not cool with it yet, it’s fine. Just thought I'd ask.” 

Seungkwan watches him, eyes narrowing in suspicion. “Weird how?”

“Huh?”

“You said Myungho-hyung was acting weird. What do you mean?” Seungkwan asks, smiling down at the small chocolate-drizzled pastry he’d also decided to order today.

Hansol hums, watching Seungkwan rip the pastry into manageable bits. “He gets a bit tense when it’s just me and him in the studio. Like, I don’t know, I can feel a weird shift in the air that he knows something that I know but I don’t know what it is,” he says, bobbing his head. “But Jun-hyung’s started to come by to sit with Myungho-hyung sometimes and it’s like they don’t notice if I’m there or not.”

“Ooh!” Seungkwan exclaims, pushing his plate to the side to lean forward over the table. “What do they do?” He holds up a ripped piece of chocolate-drizzled dough to Hansol’s lips.

Hansol accepts, tossing the bread to one side of his cheek so he can answer. “They stare at Myungho-hyung’s screen while he edits Jun-hyung’s pictures.”

“Hot,” Seungkwan says dryly, almost disappointed. 

Hansol grimaces. “What were you _expecting?_ ” 

Seungkwan’s bottom lip comes out in a familiar pout. “I don’t know, I thought it’d be like something cute like hand-holding or whatever. I thought they were getting back together.”

Hansol bobs his head again, drumming his fingers on the table. He thought they would be too. But after his talks with Junhwi, he’s learned to stop expecting it, to stop pushing and let things flow their course, the way Myungho would have told him. 

Seungkwan angles his head to try to look at him. “You’re staring off again. You thinking about something?” 

Hansol quickly shakes his head out of it. “Something Jun-hyung told me before.”

Seungkwan leans both elbows on the table, plopping his chin between both hands. “One day you’ll stop rubbing in how close you are to him.”

“It’s not my fault he likes me. I didn’t do anything special.”

“You’re Myungho-hyung’s _assistant!_ ” Seungkwan objects, hands slamming to the table. Hansol isn’t sure why Seungkwan likes bringing that up. “What if he’s asking you how to get back in with Myungho-hyung?”

 _He already did that once,_ Hansol thinks to himself, picking up his coffee cup again for a sip. “We’re getting off subject,” he says instead to cover for Junhwi. “Do you think we should tell Myungho-hyung about us dating?”

“Oh.” Seungkwan settles calmly back in his seat. “Do you think it’s important?”

Hansol flicks his eyes back up to him, hoping to read something. “I feel like he already knows and he’s waiting for me to say something first. Like we’re doing this dance where I know that he knows that I’m going out with you but neither of us say anything. And he’s trying to be a good hyung by waiting for me to be comfortable talking to him first so I feel weird sneaking around him. We could just tell him and get it over with.”

Seungkwan looks apprehensive, eyes darting around and fingernails tapping at his small plate. 

“What’s wrong?” Hansol asks seriously. 

“I was wondering how Myungho-hyung managed to hide a boyfriend for nine months when it seems so hard doing it for one.”

Hansol sighs, reaching across the table for Seungkwan’s hand. “Myungho-hyung probably had his reasons,” he says, gently running his thumb over Seungkwan’s knuckles. He doubts Myungho had a boss monitoring him the way Myungho is doing to him now. Junhwi did say that Myungho tended to be stubborn and secretive, even with him.

Seungkwan’s eyes widen, slamming his other hand on the table. “Junhwi-ssi was the boyfriend! That’s why he had to hide him! Oh my god!” 

Hansol stares at him, nodding when he sees Seungkwan’s eyes imploring at him for a reaction. “Probably,” he supplies flatly, only able to blink as Seungkwan works himself into a mild frenzy again. He’s satisfied when Seungkwan keeps his hand in Hansol’s though.

“He was going to move in with that boyfriend!” Seungkwan presses, sounding frantically urgent. 

Hansol blinks again. He knew this. Joshua told him about them supposedly moving in together after that explosive disaster of a lunch months ago. He nods in an attempt to satisfy his boyfriend’s need for a reaction.

Seungkwan frowns. “You’re not as excited about this as I am.”

“What’s there to be excited about?” Hansol shrugs. “You already know they dated and you know it was pretty serious. You’ve seen how they are.” 

Seungkwan’s expression darkens. “No, _you’ve_ seen how they are. All I get are second-hand stories and selfies of my boyfriend with one of my favorite actors!”

“You could just ask Jun-hyung for a selfie the next time you see him.”

“Easy for you to say! Junhwi-ssi basically adopted you!” Seungkwan protests.

Hansol sighs. “You’re getting very distracted.”

“My favorite hyung dated my favorite actor, Hansol! And I had no idea!” Seungkwan reiterates, huffily sipping away at his drink. 

“You’re right, I have no idea what that’s like,” Hansol supplies, head bobbing away. He supposes Myungho would be his favorite hyung if he had to pick. Although Hansol isn’t as familiar with actors as Seungkwan is, he doesn’t pay much attention to those things. But he also supposes Junhwi is the closest he knows so he’ll pick him too. 

But now, even if his favorite hyung and actor are the same as Seungkwan’s, he still doesn’t have that same feeling of betrayal that Seungkwan seems to have towards their past relationship. 

“You’re staring at me weird again,” Seungkwan notes, sounding suspicious and pulling him out of his thoughts. 

Hansol blinks. “Weird in the good way or bad way?”

“You tell me. What were you thinking about?”

Hansol gives a single firm nod. “It’s just really cute how invested you are in this.” He holds a hand up before Seungkwan can object. “I know, favorite hyung, favorite actor, nobody told you and all that. But still.” 

Seungkwan sips his drink again and Hansol eyes the line of caffeinated liquid sinking through the transparent cup. “When you tell Myungho-hyung about us, I want to be there.”

Hansol flicks his gaze up once again. “Any specific reason? You’d have to ditch Mingyu-hyung and pop over.”

Seungkwan waves a hand around to dismiss the thought. “I disappear all the time, Mingyu-hyung barely notices if it’s in the middle of an ad read or something. I can tell when he needs me for something anyway. But I want to see how Myungho-hyung reacts. His assistant going out with his favorite dongsaeng, it’ll be great.”

Hansol frowns. “You think he’ll care about that?”

Seungkwan beams, bright and confident. “I told you, Myungho-hyung is secretive and tends to act like things don’t bother him when they actually really do. So in front of us, he might look like he’s cool with it, but he might actually be super protective of me,” he says, proudly leaning his chin in his hands again. “He loves me, you know.”

Hansol doesn’t know what he wants to argue first, the fact that Myungho isn’t the type to involve himself too much in what other people are doing, or that Seungkwan keeps insisting how much Myungho loves him while also lamenting how Myungho wouldn’t tell him about the seriousness of his relationship with Junhwi. “Has he scared off a partner of yours in the past or something?”

“Uh?” Seungkwan looks upward in thought, pursing his lips. “He and Mingyu-hyung did get really antsy one time because I was talking to Moonbinnie a lot.” 

Hansol blinks. The name doesn’t sound familiar. Maybe he hasn’t met him yet.

“We weren’t going out though, don’t worry!” Seungkwan quickly says, waving his hands around defensively.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Oh.” Seungkwan pouts a little, settling in his seat. “I thought you were gonna get jealous or something.”

Hansol shrugs, leaning forward to finish off his coffee. “I’m just trying to figure out why you’re saying Myungho-hyung is going to be super protective of you if we tell him we’re dating.”

Seungkwan’s eyes flicker around, slightly guilty.

“Are you disappointed I didn’t get jealous?” Hansol prompts after a while.

“A little.” 

“I don’t need to get jealous,” Hansol answers, sitting up in his seat. “We had that deal, didn’t we?”

Seungkwan nibbles at his lip, eyes moving around the table again. When it lands on the mostly-forgotten pastry, he reaches for it again, ripping another piece and shoves it in his mouth. Hansol can almost see the memory sinking back into Seungkwan’s head as he chews. In the midst of his thinking, Seungkwan also rips a piece and holds it towards Hansol. 

With a chuckle, he accepts the bread into his mouth. “So, about Myungho-hyung being overprotective of you.”

Seungkwan immediately perks up. “I’m sure Myungho-hyung loves me. When we tell him, he’ll act like it’s no big deal but he’ll probably try to ask you a bunch of questions.” He reaches his own hand across the table to grab Hansol’s hand. “It’s okay, I’ll protect you though.”

Hansol chuckles. “You’ll protect me?”

“From Myungho-hyung!” Seungkwan says cheerfully. 

“You think Myungho-hyung won’t approve of me dating you?” Hansol challenges with another laugh. “I’m his assistant. He might not love me like he loves you but he at least _likes me._ ”

Seungkwan purses his lips, picking up his drink and sipping at his straw again. “I’ll see if I can drop by lunch today or something, so let him know, okay? We’ll tell him then.”

“I can’t tell him before you show up?”

“No!” Seungkwan objects before he pauses, thinking. “Unless you want to tell him on your own before I show up. But I can’t protect you like that.” 

Hansol finds himself laughing. “I’ll take my chances.”

He thinks it’ll be fine. He can tell Myungho about it when he gets in, give him a heads up that Seungkwan will come by later to confirm it. But he thinks if he tells Myungho about it, it’ll ease whatever tension that’s been surrounding them lately.

*****

_When Mingyu sees Minghao the next morning, he’s rushing from his room and towards the bathroom, covering his mouth._

_Mingyu sighs, going into the kitchen to see if he has some pork bone soup leftover he can use to offer to Minghao._

_“Mingyu! I need a favor!” he hears from the washroom._

_Mingyu appears in the doorway, wiping his hands on a towel. There Minghao is in his decidedly unfabulous glory, leaning over the toilet bowl, groaning. If he were particularly petty, he would address the fact that Minghao is asking for a favor, despite saying he hated favors earlier. Despite it being the basis of him choosing to hire Junhwi over him._

_But he’s let that go, Mingyu reminds himself, it doesn’t matter anymore._

_“You mean after I already took care of your drunk ass yesterday? Sure, what can I do for you, princess?” he asks, grinning. He knows he probably shouldn’t get too cocky, with how many times Minghao has had to look after him when he was drunk. Then again, Mingyu was never bad enough that he was throwing up the next day._

Then again, _Mingyu also never broke up with a serious boyfriend he was supposed to be moving in with._

_Minghao coughs. “I need you to call Jun-hyung’s manager for me.”_

_Mingyu’s grin fades. “What?”_

_“Look, I just— I just need to make sure something happened with Jun-hyung, okay?”_

_“Why can’t you call?”_

_“He knows my number. And my voice. It has to be you,” Minghao insists, closing the toilet lid as he gets up before he flushes it. “Thanks for taking care of me, by the way.”_

_Mingyu stands there dumbfounded as Minghao passes him, patting his shoulder. He follows Minghao back to their small round, white table and takes a seat with him._

_Minghao holds his hand out for Mingyu’s phone, who types in the number, supposedly for Junhwi’s manager. “Just ask him where Jun-hyung is. Pretend you’re looking to hire him for something.”_

_“This is turning into a pretty big favor. Acting.”_

_Minghao doesn’t respond, just silently stares at Mingyu with a dreadfully serious look that shuts him up. He really should’ve known better than to try to make a joke right now. Minghao then puts the call on speaker, holding the phone up for Mingyu to take back._

_When the call immediately ends without ringing, Minghao frowns. The way his face scrunches up as he sighs and runs his hand through his hair, Mingyu can tell this is way too important to Minghao._

_Whatever happened for Minghao to suddenly break up with Junhwi, drink himself stupid, and then try to call him —or at least his manager— again the next morning and stress Minghao out like this, Mingyu doesn’t think he’d be able to understand._

_“I’ll call his apartment instead,” Minghao decides, typing in another set of numbers. “Just say the same thing, okay?” he says, handing the phone back. It actually rings this time and for those few seconds, Mingyu quickly runs over what he’s going to say in his head._

“Hello?” _a deep voice answers._

_Minghao frowns, deciding it’s not Junhwi’s voice, but gestures for Mingyu to respond anyway._

_“Hi uh, this is Kim—” he says, stalling when he realizes he can’t use his actual name. “—Eunwoo,” he recovers, making a silent distressed face at Minghao who just keeps moving his hand in gestures to continue. “I’m looking for Moon Junhwi for a project and was told this was the best way to reach him. I tried his manager’s number and it was a go no.”_

“Ah,” _the voice exclaims in a sigh, “_ I’m sorry, Moon Junhwi left for China this morning and his manager isn’t taking calls right now. I’m not sure how you got this number but he doesn’t live here anymore.”

_“Oh,” Mingyu says, looking at Minghao for a clue on what to say next but Minghao is too busy dazedly staring at a wall. “That’s too bad, I was hoping to catch him for a job. Thank you for your time.” He quickly hangs up and glares at Minghao. “I hope you’re happy, his roommate probably thinks I’m a creepy-ass stalker that somehow got Junhwi’s apartment number.”_

_“Junhwi actually left,” Minghao says, voice filled with awe and not paying attention. “He really did it.”_

_Mingyu tilts his head. “Is that uh, is that what you wanted?”_

_“I—” Minghao sighs, the feeling looking like it was finally setting in, “he’s really gone.”_

_Mingyu says nothing, just puts a hand on Minghao’s shoulder and tries to sway him comfortingly._

_Then Minghao realizes something, brows furrowing and turning to him. “Jun-hyung doesn’t have a roommate.”_

_“What?”_

_“You said that was his roommate. Jun-hyung doesn’t have a roommate,” he repeats, firmer. “He lives alone. Otherwise I wouldn’t have slept over there so many times.”_

_“God,” Mingyu exclaims, covering his ears, “I don’t need to know this.”_

_Minghao rolls his eyes, swiping at Mingyu’s upper arm. “No, idiot, I’m saying Jun-hyung doesn’t have a roommate and it’s not his manager, then it’s probably Wonwoo-hyung who answered.”_

_“Wonwoo?” Mingyu asks blankly, lowering his hands. “Well, either way, hopefully he doesn’t think I’m some creepy stalker who bought Junhwi’s number.”_

_Minghao scoffs. “Oh right, I forgot you hated him. Well, thanks for checking for me.”_

_Mingyu sighs as he lowers his hands, eyes drifting to Minghao. “How uh, how much of last night do you remember?”_

_Minghao scrunches his face. “Not much after the third glass of wine. Why? Did I do something weird?”_

_Mingyu quickly shakes his head. “It was mostly you crying about how much you loved Junhwi.”_

_“Ugh.” Minghao covers his face with his hands. “Thanks for taking care of me, though.”_

_Mingyu nods. “Sure, no problem,” he says without thinking. He watches Minghao start rubbing his forehead, getting up to look for water._

_For a few moments, Mingyu considers asking Minghao what happened, why he suddenly left yesterday and broke up with Junhwi, why he broke up with Junhwi at all if it meant he was just going to drink away in regret. Mingyu can tell Minghao wouldn’t have broken up with Junhwi if he didn’t think he had no other choice._

_He considers asking, but he doesn’t. He knows Minghao wouldn’t give him an answer anyway. It’d be weird, he thinks, asking about their relationship now after awkwardly dancing around Minghao for the entire duration of it, frustrating Minghao with his refusal to even meet Junhwi the entire time they were together._

_And if he wasn’t going to tell him drunk, there was no way Minghao would tell him sober. So Mingyu leaves it alone and just focuses on doing his best to watch over Minghao._

_For a few weeks, Minghao spends a lot of time watching Chinese dramas with Seungkwan on their sofa. He lets Seungkwan snuggle into his arm and answers all of his questions about the setting and the culture, all while still never touching that luggage bag he’d brought back that day. When Mingyu asks about it, Minghao tells him he’s still moving out, just not with Junhwi._

“I was going to move out anyway, so might as well,” _Minghao says blankly._

_Mingyu doesn’t have any arguments since them living together seems to have caused more problems than either of them wanted to admit. He’s letting Minghao go anyway. Mingyu thinks it’ll be harder to watch over him like this, despite his worries, but he thinks it’s what they both need._

_He helps Minghao pack up his stuff, whatever he had left to pack up anyway, including a yellow painting that Minghao spends way too long staring at before deciding to move it, and helps bring them to the new building Minghao had picked out a few blocks away._

_Minghao doesn’t talk about Junhwi anymore, Minghao doesn’t talk much at all. He focuses on his work, visits on weekends occasionally, and tells Mingyu he’s hired an assistant._

_If he’s being honest, Mingyu worries a little for the assistant. He’s watched enough of Minghao over the past few months to notice how closely he’s barricading inside himself, withdrawing, burying everything down so deep that nothing could ever breach it again. Mingyu wonders how the assistant will be able to handle that._

_Mingyu tries to help as much as he can. He hides Minghao’s wine, along with his means to purchase more; he takes Minghao to hang out with Eunwoo, Jungkook, and Jaehyun; he befriends Minghao’s assistant and gives warnings and guidance; he still tries to make enough food for Minghao to take home whenever he visits._

_On one particular visit, Minghao thanks Mingyu for taking care of him despite not liking Junhwi. Well, Minghao never says Junhwi’s name, awkwardly pausing right when he gets to the Ju-sound and staring into his wine glass, but Mingyu knows what he means. Even if Minghao’s assumption is still untrue, he’s given up on correcting him._

_Mingyu replies with a soft, “No problem, buddy. Love you.”_

_Minghao’s eyes flutter, blinking as he nods. “Love you too.”_

_And Mingyu still knows what he means. To his relief, his heart doesn’t try to reach out anymore, doesn’t ache and try to pretend it means more than it does. He’s not sure when it happened, his feelings wading off without him realizing. But he’s content like this._

_Eventually, Mingyu sees Minghao return to a form of himself, able to function normally, but still not quite the same, still somewhat haunted. He decides that if there was a chance to bring up Junhwi, it’s long gone by now._

_Mingyu sometimes wonders what would have happened if he had asked Minghao about the breakup with Junhwi that morning, when Minghao was throwing up and asking him to make calls. He wonders if he would have gotten an answer, if Minghao still would’ve ended up like this._

***** *****

Minghao gets into work a bit early, about twenty minutes earlier than usual. He didn’t get much sleep last night, his mind constantly replaying Junhui’s pleas to him, voice so desperately vulnerable and broken and miserable. Each time, it felt like they were cutting him in half, tearing at his soul and reinjuring the old wounds he’s not sure have ever fully healed. 

He’s been selfish, hoarding all of their memories to himself, fully assured that Junhui completely and truly loved him the entire time and everything between them was real. Minghao carried the end of their relationship on his own, but Junhui had been plagued for years by questions and doubts of their very existence. 

Minghao sends an email to Jeonghan, asking if he can set up a meeting between him and Junhui in one of the rooms on the seventeenth floor in a few minutes. He needs it fully booked off, no interruptions for at least an hour. When Jeonghan asks if Jisoo needs to be involved, Minghao says no and figures Jeonghan knows what it’s about when he sees Jeonghan’s reply.

_‘Ok you’re booked…You better not fuck this up.’_

Minghao taps a fingernail anxiously at his mouse, glancing down at the metal bracelet with the silver sunflower at his wrist. He knows he has to put it to rest now, he has to give Junhui the closure he needs. He can do this one last thing for Junhui. He can pretty much do anything for Junhui, he can do this. 

He should have done it earlier but he was too afraid of what that meant, too unsure. He used to think it meant more to him than it did to Junhui, that there was no point in bringing it up if it didn’t matter to him. Now, at least, Minghao knows how wrong he was about that. 

“Ah, Myungho-hyungie?” Hansol’s voice hesitantly calls as he steps into the room, drawing Minghao’s attention away from his screen. 

Minghao gulps, knowing nothing good comes whenever Hansol chooses to call him _‘hyungie.’_ Hansol generally disliked acting cute, it was one of the reasons Minghao felt comfortable hiring him. So whenever Hansol _did_ try to act cute, Minghao learned to expect that something was up. 

He’s hit with a brief thought that it might have something to do with Junhui, that Hansol visited Junhui’s apartment last night to help him through his drunken stupor. That Junhui lazily lay in his lap while Hansol gives a gentle reprimand of, _“Silly hyung, you shouldn’t drink so much,”_ while carding his fingers through his hair.

It burns a little in his chest, aching not so much with jealousy, but with a faint wish that it could be him instead. Minghao tells himself that one day the ache will eventually fade. It has to.

He takes a deep breath, running a hand through his hair. “Yes, Hansol-ah? What is it?”

“I um, I wanted to talk to you about something,” Hansol continues, biting at his lip and leaning back against his desk. 

Minghao nods his chin at him. “If it’s important, say it now. I have an urgent meeting upstairs in a few minutes.”

Hansol’s eyes widen. “Oh, uh,” he drawls, “it’s okay, it can wait then.”

Minghao feels his eyes shifting in suspicion at him. “You sure?”

Hansol hurriedly nods, planting himself down in his seat. “Yeah. If you have an urgent meeting, I can just uh, I can just tell you when you get back.”

“Okay.” Minghao gets up, pushes his computer chair to his desk and makes his way to the door.

“Your uh, your outfit looks really nice today, hyung,” Hansol calls when he’s almost there.

Minghao stops, hand resting on the doorknob, and he looks back at Hansol, unable to ease the suspicion rising at the sudden compliment. Another thing that Hansol doesn’t do since fashion isn’t something Hansol typically concerns himself with. “Which camera did you break?”

Hansol holds his hands up in defense, eyes widening again, shaking his head. “I didn’t break any cameras, hyung,” he says, sliding his chair back a little. “I swear.”

Minghao stares at him a bit longer, sighing. “You’re acting really weird. Well, whatever you broke, leave the details on my desk. I’ll tell Jeonghan-hyung to order another one when I get back.”

“I uh, o-okay,” Hansol says, breath coming out a bit shaky.

+++

When Minghao steps out of the elevator and makes his way to Jeonghan’s desk, he’s not sure what to expect. 

Jisoo is hovering behind Jeonghan’s desk, running his thumb against the pages of a stack of sticky notes while Jeonghan’s back is turned to him, chair towards his computer and Minghao can only see his profile. 

Jisoo notices him first, looking up and putting down the stationery. “Ah, Myungho.”

Minghao still hates how he doesn’t know how to ever read anything from Jisoo, but he notices Jeonghan briefly looking away from typing at his screen to glance over at him. “Hi, Shua-hyung, is—”

“Junnie’s already in the meeting room,” Jisoo hums, looking down to pick up a desk calendar off Jeonghan’s desk and flip through it. 

Minghao takes hesitant steps, wondering if there is still something else that Jisoo knows that Minghao doesn’t but should. “Right. Thanks.” He takes a few steps towards the hallway of the meeting room.

“You made the right call,” Jisoo suddenly says, stopping him, “last night. When you called me to pick him up.”

Minghao turns back, curiously watching him.

“In case you were wondering,” Jisoo continues, finally looking up from the desk calendar. 

Minghao waits in case Jisoo is going to say anything else, something that can tell him more than just whatever ominous vibe he seemed to be going for. He nods. “Thanks.”

Jisoo’s face relaxes into a reassuring smile. The warm friendly kind your older brother would give you when he forgives you for pissing him off earlier. Minghao isn’t sure what to do with it but it isn’t unwelcome.

WIth another nod, Minghao scurries off to the meeting room that Jeonghan had booked for them, not wanting to waste any more time. When he opens the door, Junhui is sitting on one side of the long wooden table, scrolling through his phone. He’s slumped a bit down the chair in his questionable posture that Minghao somehow remembers. His eyes flicker to Minghao at the noise and he lowers his phone.

Minghao tentatively closes the door behind him. “Sorry to make you wait.”

Junhui pulls himself to sit properly in the chair, placing his phone face down on the table. “It wasn’t that long,” he says, drumming his fingers at the back of his phone case. “I didn’t have time to get tea today, so—”

“It’s fine,” Minghao says quickly. “I’m not thirsty.” It’s a lie but Junhui’s eyes are locked on him and Minghao can’t form any other words to say, letting the room fall into silence. They hold each other’s gaze in what feels like a familiar spell that held them before, last night before everything crashed. Minghao’s heart starts rattling in his chest, thumping in his ears and fluttering out the only word it knows on repeat.

Junhui nods, then clears his throat and looks away first, back to the spot on the table where his phone is. Minghao suddenly wonders if Junhui had been searching his eyes for something just now, whether he had found it. He wonders if somehow Junhui can hear his own name being whispered through Minghao’s heart. 

“I appreciate you booking this,” Junhui says, gesturing around mildly. “Or getting Jeonghannie-hyung to.”

Minghao unfreezes, feet remembering how to work and decides to sit in one of the chairs beside Junhui, not wanting to create unnecessary space between them. He almost comments on how he promised Junhui they would talk so of course he booked it, but decides to go with something else. “Shua-hyung doesn’t mind, right? That I had to book you for a meeting?” He swivels the chair to face him.

Junhui shakes his head with a small, fond smile. “Nah. If anything, this gives him more time to plot things with Jeonghannie-hyung and gossip. Or whatever chaos they like to do together.”

Minghao chuckles, letting out a light hum, knowing the propensity the two had for mischief with each other. He searches his brain for anything else to say now. “How’s your head?”

Junhui’s head in question quirks towards him a little, curious. 

“From last night, when we were drinking,” Minghao supplies, mildly gnawing on his lip in worry for Junhui’s hangover.

“I wasn’t drunk last night,” Junhui says firmly, holding Minghao’s gaze with a similar but lighter intensity.

Minghao swallows the lump in his throat and understands the implication; Junhui knew exactly what he was saying. He was fully aware and meant every word with all the sincerity and heartbreak Minghao saw last night, living in Junhui’s chest all those years. Minghao folds his hands in his lap, ignoring the urge to fidget with the silver on his wrist. 

“So what happened back then?” Junhui finally asks, voice small and quiet and lost. 

Minghao takes a deep breath, running too many questions in his head of what Junhui would want to know and decides to ask, “Where should I start?”

Junhui looks down for a few seconds, gathering himself. When he looks back at Minghao, the strained hurt and raw vulnerability that Minghao knows he caused is back. “When you agreed to move in with me, did you actually intend on doing it?”

A cold tingle runs over Minghao’s skin, working its way through to his chest, freezing it for a second. It never occurred to him that Junhui would question that. He starts realizing, likely far too late, just how many doubts Junhui had been carrying about them this whole time, that there were far more wounds on his heart than he thought. 

“Yes,” Minghao says firmly, “of course I did.” 

Junhui’s brow twitches. “Did you regret saying yes? Or doubt we would be able to live together?”

Minghao firmly and quickly shakes his head. “I wouldn’t have packed and brought my things over to your apartment if I wasn’t sure about us.”

“But you changed your mind,” Junhui says slowly. 

“I did,” Minghao reaffirms. “I had to.”

“Had to?” Junhui echoes, eyes becoming more lost.

“It was just what was best.” 

“What was best for us,” Junhui repeats carefully, voice low and deflated, like the words haunt his tongue. “Do you still think that?”

Minghao presses his lips together. Of course he does. Junhui got a thriving movie career in China, was able to grow in ways he couldn’t have if he stayed here as just a model with Minghao, trying for Korean roles he wouldn’t have been able to put his heart into. He thought Junhui would’ve seen this by now. “Yes, I do.”

Confusion and hurt flicker over Junhui’s features, as if he still can’t process Minghao’s answers. “Why? Because of Myungsoo-sunbae?”

Minghao quickly shakes his head, sighing. “Myungsoo-hyung didn’t do anything. He just… when I talked to him, he helped put some things in perspective. About you, about us.”

“Myungsoo-sunbae was always nice so what,” Junhui almost chokes out. “What could he have _possibly_ said that would make you change your mind and just throw out everything we were?” 

Minghao takes a deep breath. “I know about Hengdian. I know they offered you a contract deal. After you came back.” It’s finally out, uncerimonious, after carrying it around for so long. But it doesn’t make Minghao feel any better, not like he thought it would. He’s not sure why it felt so heavy, it’s just a fact now. It shouldn’t be able to change anything in the present.

“What?” Junhui falters. “How do you know about that?” he asks softly before realization settles on his features. “That’s what Myungsoo-sunbae told you? Why would he tell you that?” 

Minghao shakes his head. “Does it matter? I know they made you an offer to work with them again and you were going to turn it down.” 

“ _That’s_ why you broke up with me? Because I wouldn’t take a _job?_ ”

“It wasn’t just a job, [Junhui!] It was an opportunity that could help grow your career!” Minghao retorts. “It was everything you could have wanted, it was your dream. You were working so hard for it for so long.” 

“You thought _that_ was my—?” The corner of Junhui’s lip twitches. “I would’ve found roles here. I would’ve built my career here, at home, with—” His breath catches and he presses his lips shut, turning away.

“[Junhui…]” Minghao starts in a tired reprimand, clicking his tongue. “I know you were turning it down just to stay here with me because I told you about Seungcheol-hyung’s offer. But once I was out of the picture and you took it, look what happened! You’re doing great! Even better than when you left!” Minghao exclaims, smiling and arms sweeping in wide gestures. 

Junhui, on the other hand, looks more upset. “So you just took the choice away from me? Decided on your own what was best? You should have told me so we could have talked about it.”

“ _I_ should have told you?” Minghao huffs, arms falling back to his lap. “You were deciding on your own what was best too. You should have told me about the deal when I _fucking asked you about it._ ”

Junhui flinches, turning his head away. 

“You lied to me,” Minghao finally says with a shaky exhale. “I asked you and you fucking lied to me. Why didn’t you tell me about it?”

Junhui drums his fingers on the table. “There was nothing to talk about.”

“Bullshit. You told me about the first time you left. What made this one different?”

Junhui sighs, only tapping his index finger on the table now, eyes shifting around like he’s weighing his options. 

Minghao’s heart is hammering away at his chest and in his ears. He starts getting an odd feeling that his suspicion from years ago is still correct: this contract was different because Junhui was never even considering it.

“It was binding for three years. I couldn’t ask you to do that. Not after….”

“So you just didn’t,” Minghao concludes for both of them. “Jun-ah, I know you, you were putting me above everything, you—”

“You _were_ above everything!” Junhui objects forcefully, loud and strained and bouncing off the walls. “I wanted to _marry you._ ”

His voice weakly melts off again and Minghao swears his heart stops and doesn’t respond for a while, staring at Junhui until his expression eventually softens. He doesn’t know what to say now. He never did, not even the first time Junhui mentioned it. 

_“I was supposed to marry you.”_

Those soft broken words had haunted Minghao’s mind and heart for years. He’d heard it then and he can hear it now, the way Junhui was watching a fragile echo of a dream shattering in front of him. 

Junhui had said those words to him three months after he’d turned twenty-three, a month and a half before Minghao turned twenty-two. And even then, in the midst of their youth, Junhui was somehow already sure that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with him. 

And Minghao had to essentially say no, double down that they still had to break up. Because at twenty-three, Minghao couldn’t let Junhui waste his chance to break into the market that Minghao knew Junhui was so fascinated with and could excel in. A market Junhui was more comfortable in, according to everything he’d learned from Myungsoo. Minghao loved Junhui way too much to let him throw that away, even for him.

But it still killed him knowing he had caused Junhui’s other dream to break, carrying that guilt with him when he saw him, even now. They weren’t ever officially engaged, but sometimes Minghao’s heart stabbed at him as if they had been, that he’d hurt Junhui that much.

He was an idiot to think the same heartbreak wasn’t living in Junhui’s chest all these years too. Minghao knows Junhui would only bring it up again now to remind him of that. 

“You would’ve let yourself be stuck here, wondering what would have happened if you had taken it,” is all Minghao can get himself to say.

“That would’ve been my choice,” Junhui replies, tone firm.

“You would’ve been miserable. I couldn’t let you do that.” Junhui is still the same, Minghao decides, still foolish, blind and hard-headed, still only looking at one thing. He doesn’t seem to understand the magnitude of everything he did, what he almost did, what he almost gave up. 

Junhui stares at a wall behind Minghao, letting out a long sigh, tugging his sleeves over his hands. “I wish you told me you knew.”

“And if I did?” Minghao challenges. “If I told you I knew about the deal, would you have still gone?”

Junhui doesn’t answer for a while, idly tapping at the table again. The heavy silence that settles between them then somehow tells them both what they need to know. No, Junhui wouldn’t have gone. It would have changed nothing. 

In a way, Minghao feels like he knew this all along. That no matter what, Junhui would have tried to stay here for him, do whatever it took. This is of course, bolstered by Junhui’s confession that he had marriage in mind the whole time, even if it wasn’t immediate. The only way Junhui would have gone is if they were no longer connected, if Junhui didn’t have Minghao to think about and consider and weigh him down.

However, Minghao feels no sense of satisfaction in being right. He never did.

Junhui slowly turns his head towards him, voice small and tentative when he asks, “Do you think there could have been a way?”

Minghao sighs, looking away. It’s strange again, he thinks, how he’s still able to slip back into the role that understands what Junhui’s vague, incomplete questions mean. _Do you think there could have been a way for us to stay together and still get what we want?_

He’s actually done this for so long, going over all the what-ifs in his head over the years on how they could have stayed together. If Junhui hadn’t been offered a deal in Jinhua, if Mingyu hadn’t heard about it and told Minghao, if Minghao hadn’t run into Myungsoo that day. If Minghao hadn’t convinced Junhui to take up acting again, if Junhui didn’t love it so much, if Minghao hadn’t taken up Seungcheol’s offer. 

If Junhui had been willing to try long-distance again, if Minghao hadn’t made such a big deal of missing Junhui so much the first time, if Junhui hadn't wanted to move in together then, if Minghao had been more selfish.

If they had been just ordinary people who met on a rainy day outside of a convenience store and fell in love that way. 

There were too many variables but only one path for them, only one present. Minghao had run himself into the ground far too many times thinking about it; he doesn’t want Junhui to do the same. 

“It just wasn’t our time,” Minghao says at last, folding his hands neatly in front of him. He catches a glimpse of the silver sunflower charm again, peeking from under the sleeve of his cardigan. “But I want you to know that I never regretted being with you. Everything we were, everything we did, I truly meant all of it.” 

Junhui finally looks at him, eyes softening, searching again. “Even if we had to end like that?” 

“Yeah.” Minghao nods, swallowing the rest of his thoughts down. “Even if we had to end like that.” 

Junhui lets out a long exhale, stretching his arms on the table in front of him. “I’m sorry I misjudged you for so long.” He sighs, long and heavy. “And I’m sorry I found out too late.”

 _Too late._ Minghao’s chest tightens. Of course it’s too late. He knows. He’s known for days, weeks, years even. But knowing doesn’t stop the ache from spreading through his every muscle. 

Timing never worked out for them.

“You were right,” Junhui suddenly comments, voice still low. When Minghao glances over, Junhui’s still stretching his arms over the table, eyes focused on his hands. “This whole time, I thought I was the only one that was suffering. I’m sorry.”

Minghao hums, shaking his head. “It’s not your fault.”

He searches his brain for anything to say, not sure how to fill the empty space. He doesn’t know what other words he can offer, the conversation seemingly coming to a close. Minghao looks down at his hands, at the silver bracelet, not able to bring himself to get up and leave just yet. He can’t tell if his heart has grown stronger or weaker, not willing to let their relationship die here or still trying to linger and have this last moment with Junhui.

He doesn’t get to figure it out when the door clicks open.

“Jun-ah,” Jeonghan’s voice calls from the door. He looks between them, seeming to take in the atmosphere of the room. “Sorry, but Shua’s looking for you. Your hour's almost up anyway.”

“Ah, okay,” Junhui says, getting up. He tucks his chair back to the table, turning to Minghao. “So I’ll see you around?”

“Yeah.”

Junhui heads towards Jeonghan at the doorway, turning back to face Minghao again before he’s fully out the door. “[Thank you, for telling me everything,]” he says sincerely with a small bow of the head. There’s a calm smile on his lips, as if the weight was truly gone for him now. “[I just… really needed to know.]” 

Minghao nods his head back, letting himself smile for Junhui. “[I’m sorry it took so long.]” He doesn’t know where he wants to go from here. His heart is still reaching out, hoping this doesn’t mean their friendship will be affected. He doesn’t want to be separated from Junhui again. “[I hope our friendship is still…]” _intact?_ He doesn’t know where he’s going, still doesn’t know how to convey everything he wants to Junhui after all this time. He hopes they can start again, now that it’s over.

Somehow, Junhui seems to understand. “[Of course. I still… I don’t want to lose you in my life.]” 

Before Minghao can comment on how it’s still probably weird to say that at this point, despite how desperately Minghao wants to hear it, Junhui gives another cheerful nod and heads out of the meeting room. He quickly moves past Jeonghan and down the hall.

Jeonghan glances at Junhui’s disappearing form and then stares at Minghao, as if waiting.

Minghao takes a deep breath, standing up and keeping his head down. Jeonghan is probably going to snippily nag him about needing the meeting room free. When he tries to follow suit and move past Jeonghan to leave the room, a hand pushes against his chest, stopping him. “Sorry, hyung. I’m not in the mood for whatever you want to say right now. Maybe another time,” he drones out dully, anticipating a biting remark in his direction.

Jeonghan lets out a small sigh. A hand pulls at the back of Minghao’s head and gently leads it to rest on Jeonghan’s shoulder, holding it there while his other arm wraps around Minghao’s torso. 

“Hyung?”

“You kids never listen to me when I say I’m here for you,” Jeonghan says with a light, airy sigh, trying to sway them back and forth a little. “It’s okay. I know.”

Minghao isn’t sure what it is about those words that gets him, reaches into his chest and squeezes at his heart. He doesn’t know if Jeonghan actually knows, or even _what_ Jeonghan knows, but Minghao somehow believes him anyway and his eyes start to sting. 

He doesn’t know what it is about those words that gets the dam to break, let out everything he’s been carrying around and hiding for so long, telling himself it was always for the best. The weight of the front he told himself to maintain in front of Junhui and everyone all this time finally crashing down around him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you again to emily for being super supportive while I was struggling with this ♡ and thank you to anyone still supporting and reading~! we're almost at the end and I'm grateful for all the encouragement so far, it really helps keep me motivated ♡ ;;  
> [twitter ](https://twitter.com/paishhao) | [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.qa/paishhao)


	16. Hanging love on the words I couldn't tell you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is a bit late. it's been a while because I got so mentally and emotionally exhausted, like with this project and in general and needed time away. but we're back. thank you everyone for waiting and for the support on this so far~ it really means a lot, especially since we're near the end.
> 
> I describe LINE stickers since that's what I use and know, but they use KKT and it's just a mess really. I can only hope there's overlap. 
> 
> same drill: [Mandarin]
> 
> Chapter title is from Midnight Story by Super Junior K.R.Y. (last one, I swear)

Hansol anxiously taps the end of his pen against his desk, staring at the door of the studio waiting for Myungho to come back in. He has a blank sticky note in front of him, thinking of what he could write on it. He wonders if he should bother at all, he didn’t _really_ break anything. 

In the hour Myungho had gone to his meeting, Hansol had gone for a shoot with a model he’s befriended before, Hyunggu, and already came back, somehow expecting Myungho would already be here by the time he did. Hansol was slightly dismayed when he returned to an empty studio room. 

That was ten minutes ago. 

Now he’s sitting at his desk, distractedly trying to edit the pictures while also staring at the door waiting for his boss’ return and thinking of what he could write on the sticky note to leave on Myungho’s desk. Since he knows Myungho doesn’t very much like joking about that stuff. 

He considers writing a joke, a dull one that Myungho would immediately get. But he figures writing something corny like ‘your heart’ would likely not go over well. It’s a gut feeling Hansol has and he hasn’t been wrong with those so far yet, especially regarding Myungho. It’s the only reason he’s been able to survive with him thus far. 

His attention gets pulled away when a notification slides in the corner of his screen. 

_‘Hansol-ah, Myungho is upstairs with me. His meeting ran for longer than expected and he won’t be able to make it back down for a few more minutes. Do you think you could take over his next schedule in the meantime? I’ll send him back to you when he’s all done here~ ^^’_ is what Jeonghan wrote in his email. 

Hansol sends a quick response. _‘Of course. Sure thing, hyung.’_ and leaves it at that. He checks Myungho’s schedule for what room he has to be in and what he would need to bring. Once he knows he has to be on the sixth floor to shoot an ad with a group of actors, he sends a text to Seungkwan. 

_‘Myungho-hyung had an urgent meeting this morning so I couldn’t tell him about us yet. Are you still going to come by today?’_

_‘Hm, do you think I should?’_ comes Seungkwan’s reply. 

Hansol taps his pen on the desk again as he thinks about it. _‘You might scare him if you do. I don’t know how he’ll be feeling after his meeting since it ran late and he’s not even back yet. Do you think we should wait to tell him another day?’_

Seungkwan doesn’t reply for a few minutes and Hansol takes the time to gather the equipment he needs before he heads out of the studio. When he’s at the elevator, he gets Seungkwan’s reply.

_‘Sure! Probably wouldn’t be good to tell him after a stressful meeting like that. So we’ll wait until his schedule is better~ let me know how his schedule works out then and I’ll tell you when I can drop by~’_

Hansol nibbles on his lip, stepping into the elevator. _‘Ok. But when we tell him, let me do all the talking, okay? I know how to handle most of Myungho-hyung’s work moods.’_

Seungkwan’s response is a sticker of a girl huffing smoke from her nostrils. _‘Fine fine.’_

Hansol smirks, tempted to roll his eyes. _‘I’m the one that has to convince him that I’m good enough to date his favorite dongsaeng anyway,’_ he sends with a laughing sticker. _‘That’s what you wanted, right?’_

Seungkwan’s reply is a blushing sticker with no message. 

+++

Minghao stares at the back of Jeonghan’s chair as he types away at his computer.

Jeonghan had waited for Minghao to gather himself, hugging him the entire time until Minghao’s tears had dried up. Jeonghan hadn’t said much to him since, only inviting Minghao over to sit at his desk until he felt ready to go back to his studio. He’d quietly put a tissue box in front of him while he turned around to continue his duties at his computer. 

Minghao had taken some time to wipe at his eyes and blow his nose, hoping to bring his appearance back down to normal. If he’s being honest, he’s quite frustrated with himself. He didn’t want to cry. He had been hoping to go through these weeks reconciling with Junhui with a calm and firm mind, like he always had, telling himself he had to handle everything as stoically as he could. 

He doesn’t want to cry. He doesn’t want to cry now that the worst is over, now that everything is supposed to be resolved and he’s supposed to have a peaceful existence and a reconciled friendship with Junhui firmly in place. A friendship with Junhui his heart wants to cling onto out of desperation for something, a reassurance that he’ll be able to see Junhui again another day. 

He didn’t want to cry, not with himself, not with anyone and especially not with Jeonghan. He’s still not completely sure why Jeonghan, of all people, comforted him, especially after how he’s essentially treated him since they first stepped in the same room together. He tells himself it’s because, no matter his feelings, Jeonghan can’t be completely heartless. He also wonders if it has to do with feeling responsible as the person Minghao reports to the most. He runs through a list of possibilities in his mind, also tossing around the idea that maybe Jeonghan would be concerned if Minghao ever brought up the issue to Seungcheol somehow. 

Minghao is a little afraid to ask at this point. 

But Jeonghan had told him to sit tight while he takes care of a few things. He wonders if Jeonghan is going to ask him what happened at the meeting and starts rehearsing his answers in his head, carefully measuring out just how much of the last hour he wants to divulge. 

As he spends the time waiting for Jeonghan to finish up whatever he’s doing, the clacking of the keyboard assuring him that Jeonghan is still doing _something,_ Minghao glances at various things decorating Jeonghan’s desk. He doesn’t think he’s ever really seen this side of it before up close. It’s littered with piles of paper and file folders, sticky notes, cups of stationery, the desk calendar he saw Jisoo fiddling with earlier. Hidden behind one of the stationery cups is a small acrylic rabbit figurine, grey with a white belly. 

It’s posed rather typically, sitting on its hind legs with its nose sniffing the air. As Minghao’s curiosity gets the better of him and he reaches for it to inspect it further, Jeonghan’s chair spins around.

“Junnie told me, you know,” Jeonghan says a bit too matter-of-factly, startling Minghao into quickly retracting his hand. “Before, when you were dating. He told me you think I pick on you,” he clarifies before Minghao needs to ask. 

“You do though,” Minghao replies softly. 

“I did,” Jeonghan quickly concedes, voice flippantly high. “And you never said anything.” 

“I didn’t think you’d listen if I ever brought it up.” Minghao shrugs. “I figured you’d just deny it.” 

Jeonghan snorts with a lopsided shrug. “You’re right.” Once again, Minghao finds no satisfaction in being right. Even with something as trivially petty as this. “If you had brought it up before Junnie left, I would’ve denied it. Did you ever wonder why?” 

Minghao resists the urge to roll his eyes. He never had to wonder. “You were protective of Jun-hyung and were worried I’d hurt him after what happened before I started. You told me when we first met. And I know about the bet you made.” He doesn’t mention how he knows Jeonghan was convinced the cases were his fault, that his overprotectiveness came from fear and guilt at what he perceived to be a past failure. He figures that’s too close and delicate of a sore spot and Minghao isn’t about to poke it, even for Jeonghan. He’s sure the implication of Junhui’s old cases is apparent enough for both of them. 

“And you did hurt Junnie so I was right,” Jeonghan replies nonchalantly, reaching for the acrylic rabbit Minghao was previously eyeing. “In the end, at least. And you let me get away with picking on you because you thought you deserved it, right? You never argued or told me off for it. Because even though you hurt him, you hated that you did it.” He fiddles with the figurine in his hand, rotating it as his eyes roam over its edges. “You were using me to punish yourself.”

Minghao feels his throat dry, wondering if that’s what Jeonghan was referring to earlier when he said he knew and that it was okay. He wonders how long Jeonghan had known, when he figured it out. 

Jeonghan seems to pick up on this, chuckling. He holds the figurine up in one hand, elbow leaning on the desk. “You’re half-right,” he says. His voice is light and airy and casual as if he were talking about a new food in the cafeteria and Minghao doesn’t know what to make of it. He stares at the rabbit figurine in his hand again, idly rotating and inspecting it. “At first, I picked on you to protect Junnie. But after he left, I didn’t have much reason to anymore, unless you thought I truly was just somehow that bitter and vindictive. I admit it was kind of fun and you let me get away with it but I know Shua had to be right. There’s no way you’d hurt Junnie for fun, despite what I said. Just… don’t tell him I said he was right, he’d never let me live it down.” 

Minghao blinks, not sure what’s going on. “Hyung?” 

Jeonghan finally looks up and reconnects his gaze towards Minghao. “If you had told me off after Junnie left, I would’ve respected that and there wouldn’t be an issue. But the fact that you didn’t told me everything I needed to know. You broke up with him because you loved him, right? Let him go and gave up your future together because you knew he could do better than just staying here with you? But you put on an act and got into fights to make sure no one would have to know that’s why you did it.” Jeonghan’s arm finally lowers and he slides the acrylic rabbit figurine back in its spot. His voice dips into almost a delicate whisper when he says, “I know what that’s like. Why do you think it was so easy to pick you?”

Minghao suddenly feels frozen under his stare. When Jeonghan said earlier that he knew…. “Hyung, I— I didn’t—”

“I know. No one could have known.” Jeonghan turns his chair away, back towards his computer screen. “If you’re feeling better, you should get going. I told Hansol you’d be a bit late after your meeting so that should give you some time, but you wouldn’t want to keep him waiting too long on his own.” The clicking of Jeonghan’s fingers against his keyboard fills the space immediately after he finishes talking.

Minghao doesn’t feel surprised with how quickly Jeonghan closed the window of that conversation. It doesn’t feel appropriate to try to prod at it further now. It was the smallest glimpse but it feels like enough for Minghao to understand Jeonghan more, and it feels like more of a glimpse than Jeonghan lets anyone else see. 

Jeonghan must have known the whole time, just didn’t say anything for any variety of reasons. Whether it was because of how similar they were or that he was dealing with his own issue or respecting Minghao’s space, he didn’t know, but he feels an odd sort of connection with him now, one he can’t really name or place.

He gets up, taking one more tissue from the box as he walks around the desk. “Thank you, hyung. For everything.”

Jeonghan doesn’t look up or stop typing when he says, “I’m still going to pick on you.” His voice is lighter, more good-natured than Mingaho would have expected despite the neutral expression on his features. “Just so we’re clear.”

Minghao can’t help but chuckle. “At this point, I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Jeonghan smirks. “Good. You’re the only one that can keep up with me around here. At least when Shua’s not around.”

“I’m going to start fighting back though,” Minghao replies with his own smirk. 

Jeonghan’s fingers pause, eyes finally flickering up to him. “Even better,” he says with a twinkle in his eye. “I look forward to it.”

Minghao bows his head as he heads towards the elevator. Before he presses the button, he calls, “Thanks, hyung. I mean it.”

Jeonghan nods back at him. “Anytime, sunflower.”

+++

When Mingyu said he was going to pick him up on Saturday, waiting outside his building is not what Wonwoo had in mind. 

Mingyu had already been to his apartment a handful of times and could easily come up to the front door. But no. He insisted on waiting down at the sidewalk outside the building with only a text to announce his arrival. 

Mingyu hadn’t said exactly what he had planned for said date, just told Wonwoo to dress comfortably. It likely wasn’t his intention, but all this did was stress Wonwoo out more because dressing comfortably and dressing for a first date were very different in Wonwoo’s mind. 

Comfortably means his sweatpants and a pocket t-shirt from his closet with minimal effort. First date means fitted jeans, button-up shirts, layers. Possibly styling his hair. 

He isn’t sure if it’s cheating to look out his window to check what Mingyu’s wearing first so he doesn’t feel out of place. Somehow Mingyu has managed to find a middle ground, his outfit consisting of jeans and a turtleneck under a long tan trench overcoat. Wonwoo almost wants to be offended how effortlessly Mingyu seems to pull off the casually fashionable look. But then again, he’s far from surprised, considering his profession. 

As Wonwoo goes through his own closet and settles on just a t-shirt that he’ll throw a mountain jacket over, he thinks about how he felt like he was understanding Mingyu less and less. Not in a particularly bad way, just that there were more layers than he would have expected from him as a model. He supposes he should’ve known, considering how long he’s known Junhui. 

_“What? No, we’re not friends, I'm trying to date you.”_

_“I don’t mind. I’ll cook them. Consider it payment for teaching me your video editing stuff.”_

Wonwoo tosses on a beanie, opting to keep his glasses on as he pats his pockets down for his phone, keys, wallet; the standard. Ever since Mingyu’s last visit to his apartment earlier that week, Wonwoo hasn’t really been sure how to make sense of it. It felt like the more he spent time with Mingyu, the more he found that he wasn’t expecting, layers of things he wasn't sure he could understand. Part of him does feel guilty for expecting Mingyu to somehow be singularly one-note.

Particularly when he brightens up as Wonwoo steps out of his building to see him, energy radiating off him that the golden tail wagging behind still would not be out of place. “Wonwoo-hyung!”

Wonwoo shoves his hands in his jacket pockets, taking a particularly steep inhale through his teeth as the cold air starts biting at his skin. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”

“No worries, you’re on time,” Mingyu replies, showing his phone screen’s clock of seven thirty-five before he shoves it in his pocket. It is then that Wonwoo notices the small bag dangling off Mingyu’s shoulder.

“Mingyu-yah, you can tell me if I’m five minutes late, it’s okay.”

Mingyu shakes his head, still beaming. “Then you’re five minutes late, hyung. But it’s okay.”

Wonwoo chuckles. “Not what I meant but thanks,” he says, zipping his jacket up higher and looking around at people idly passing by them on the sidewalk. “So what did you have in mind?”

Mingyu reaches into his bag, pulling out a small camera. “I was thinking we would walk around for a bit. There is somewhere I wanted to go to, if you don’t mind.” He pauses turning to him with the camera lens staring. “You allergic to anything?”

Wonwoo tugs at his hood and mumbles out his answer of shellfish, which Mingyu purses his lips at and starts nodding. 

“Okay,” he replies, beaming again. “Then let’s go.” He heads off, pointing his camera at various buildings. 

Mingyu is nice, Wonwoo thinks, happy and friendly and still acts the way he did whenever they met at Wonwoo’s apartment. If anything, Wonwoo thinks he’s more nervous than Mingyu is, despite Mingyu being the one who asked _him_ out. 

As Mingyu continues pointing his camera around and talks about how he got into cooking and different foods he wants to try, Wonwoo starts wondering why Mingyu seems to suddenly have an interest in him, why Mingyu wanted to ask him out to begin with. It’s not that Wonwoo was disinterested himself, he’s just confused and isn’t really sure how to read him; Mingyu somehow feels open and mysterious all at the same time. 

“Hyung,” Mingyu says suddenly, pointing his camera at him. “You okay?”

Wonwoo gives a quick nod, a little self-conscious but focuses on maintaining eye contact with Mingyu instead of the lens. “I’m fine. Just a little cold. How close are we to wherever you’re taking us?”

Mingyu blinks. “We’re here.” He grins, slowly spinning around and allowing his camera to get a good view. 

Wonwoo himself looks around, recognizing the streets of Jongno-gu and the banners of Gwangjang Market. “You wanted to go to a food market?”

“Yep!” Mingyu exclaims with a wide grin behind his camera, still focused on Wonwoo. “There’s a recipe I really wanted to learn and I’m hoping one of the ahjummas will let me film her while she makes it. I hope you don’t mind.”

Wonwoo shakes his head. He doesn’t mind. It was cute, oddly endearing, really. “I’m leading the way,” he says, turning and walking away without another word.

Luckily, Mingyu follows him, even as Wonwoo weaves around the various stands, looking at the handlers expertly working through their food techniques. He studiously avoids the ones with any form of seafood, eyes and nose leading him better than his feet and brightens when he finds a stand he likes. 

“Mingyu, what are you doing?” Wonwoo asks, trying to hold the tteokbokki to his face and idly turn away from the camera in his face. He has no idea how Junhui does this.

“I’m documenting,” Mingyu replies with a grin, not looking away from the viewfinder. 

Wonwoo chuckles, shoving the tteokbokki in his mouth anyway. “But you’ve been documenting all evening. Don’t you need a break? Aren’t you hungry? I thought that’s why you wanted to come here.”

Mingyu lowers his camera slightly, over his chest. “Feed me then,” he says, jaw falling open but the grin still very much apparent. 

While Wonwoo pokes at a particularly fat piece with his toothpick and holds it up for Mingyu to take, he chuckles to himself. “I hope you don’t expect me to edit those together for you later.”

Beaming, Mingyu accepts the rice cake, tossing it to his cheek as he chews. “No need, hyung. I’ll do it myself,” he replies with another cheeky grin, eyes sparkling. “I’m trying to impress you, after all.”

“With footage of me?” Wonwoo challenges, dipping his chin to look at him. 

Mingyu shrugs, not the slightest bit bothered. “I mean, you got all fussy when I was using footage of my manager, didn’t you?” 

Wonwoo rolls his eyes, lowering the bowl. “I wasn’t jealous.”

Mingyu’s grin stretches wider. “I didn’t say you were,” he says, and Wonwoo notices his tongue poking at the back of his teeth. “I just said you were fussy.”

“How was I fussy?” Wonwoo sighs and pokes at the last of the rice cakes in the bowl, sliding it around so it gathers as much sauce as possible before he eats it. “Well. At least you’re editing it yourself.”

Mingyu’s grin lowers but only slightly. “Hm? Why?”

“I’m waiting to be impressed. And I have my own project I have to work on, you know,” Wonwoo replies, trying his best to sound nonchalant and walking towards another stand. 

Mingyu follows, carefully watching through the viewfinder. “Oh, right. Your home project thing for Junhwi-ssi?”

Wonwoo dips his head, chuckling. “It’s so weird hearing people call him formally, but yes. I’m still working on something for him.” He stops to barter with the food owner auntie for some pieces of kimbap. After she hands him a small plate with five pieces, Wonwoo picks one up and turns to Mingyu, holding the kimbap up “feed” to the camera, despite Mingyu’s waiting open mouth. He waits a beat before bringing it to his own lips, grinning as he chews it.

Mingyu lets out an exaggerated sigh, lowering the camera and allowing Wonwoo to see his face squished in a sort of whining disappointment. “Hyung!” he objects, tone matching his face.

“What?” Wonwoo feigns innocence, turning away. “I gave you good footage, didn’t I? I look forward to seeing your edit, Mingyu-yah.” He hears a small huff behind him, a small whine and a mild foot stomp. One of the things Wonwoo learns today is that it is way too easy and fun to tease Mingyu. 

After about a beat, Wonwoo takes pity on him, looking back and holding the plate out. 

Luckily, Mingyu decides to tuck his camera back in his bag, instead asking about Wonwoo’s editing habits. Wonwoo allows this as it lets him go on a tangent about quick match cuts and visual gags he likes doing. 

Later on, when they’ve settled themselves on a wooden bench in front of a busily-moving middle-aged couple’s food stand, Wonwoo offers Mingyu some of the stew he bought from them. “So, Mingyu-yah, you said we spoke to each other before.”

Mingyu blinks, head tilting curiously. “Yes. We were texting before, Wonwoo-hyung,” he answers simply, shoving a particularly large spoonful in his mouth. “I know it’s our first date and I said we weren’t friends but we still knew each other.”

As Wonwoo tries not to be distracted by the absurd amount of food Mingyu is shoveling into his mouth, he clears his throat and says, “Yeah, but. When we met at the shoot you did with Junnie, you asked if I remembered you because we spoke before and I couldn’t really place it.”

Mingyu makes a muffled noise of exclamation, clapping his hands together and leaning back in his seat as he chews. His head starts nodding and he points at Wonwoo, which he’s guessing is in some sort of acknowledgement since Mingyu still can’t verbalize anything. 

Despite Wonwoo nodding and saying he’s content to wait, Mingyu keeps up his enthusiastic muffled noises, as if trying to tell Wonwoo he’ll answer soon. Mingyu sighs a particularly relieved-sounding breath, coming up for air after finally finishing his stew. “We spoke on the phone once.”

“Hah?”

Mingyu purses his lips and continues nodding. “Yep, we spoke on the phone once.”

Wonwoo frowns. “That’s it?”

“Yes.” Mingyu mirrors his frown, bringing another spoonful of stew to his mouth, letting it hover. “Do you not remember the people you speak to on the phone?”

Wonwoo turns back to the table, looking to occupy himself with food so he has an excuse to ignore his face heating up. “I feel like I would’ve remembered if I spoke to you.”

Mingyu shoves another spoonful in his mouth, expression twisting in doubt. “If you say so, hyung.” He shrugs. “It’s not that big a deal though.”

Wonwoo takes another few seconds, thinking around his potato skewer, only to be pulled out of his thoughts when Mingyu starts shoving at his shoulder. 

“Don’t worry about it, really. We’ll just start over here, deal?” he asks, grinning brightly. 

Amidst the busy passerbys moving behind Mingyu’s eagerly bright smile, amidst the glaring lights of the food stand highlighting Mingyu’s unfair features in the night sky, amidst the steam and smoke and hissing of the food machines distracting him from his heart thumping in his ears, Wonwoo finds the answer pretty easy. 

“Deal.”

+++

Minghao doesn’t see much of Junhui after their meeting, after his talk with Jeonghan. 

They’ve steadily stayed out of each other’s paths for about a week until he suddenly receives a text from Junhui, reading _‘Do you want to get lunch with me?’_

Minghao is tempted to question why all of a sudden, if there’s some hidden intention there. But he doesn’t want to come off like he’s trying to reject their first form of contact after the days of silence stretching between them. They did agree to remain friends, after all. 

Somehow, Junhui must know Minghao’s worries because he sends a follow-up. _‘I wanted to eat together with you, like I promised before. Are you free?’_ The language is overly formal, stiff and awkward and Minghao supposes it’s indicative of the unspoken distance they’ve had to place between them. He knows he can’t ask for more, no matter what his heart wants to stubbornly believe. 

_‘Sure. I’d love to.’_ Minghao has never been good at rejecting Junhui, especially not after he’s willing to burden the pressure of reaching out first. 

Minghao finds Junhui waiting outside of the restaurant address he’d texted him, hands stuffed into his jacket pockets and shoulders hunched up against the cold. His nose and cheeks and the tips of his ears are varying shades of pink, staring off at the sidewalk until Minghao steps closer. Junhui’s face lights up when he sees him, bright and still breathtakingly fascinating. Minghao thinks his heart stutters around in his chest. 

“Hao! You’re here!” Junhui exclaims, sounding somewhat relieved. 

Minghao nods. “I am,” he replies, offering his own smile. “You’re not wearing makeup.”

“I’m not,” Junhui says proudly, chuckling a little, likely at why Minghao suddenly felt the need to point that out. He then starts fishing around in his jacket pockets. “But I do have these to give back to you.” In his hands are the leather gloves Minghao had lent him earlier.

Minghao flicks his gaze back up to Junhui’s face, taking the gloves and frowning when his skin comes in contact with Junhui’s. “But you’re still cold.”

Junhui turns towards the restaurant doors. “I am, but they’re yours,” he says in a form of nonchalance, opening the doors and letting Minghao go in first. “I’d feel weird keeping them.”

 _I don’t mind,_ Minghao thinks, reasoning with himself that he can just buy another pair. He’s not sure if it would be something he can say now. When he looks around, he feels like he somehow recognizes the small homely restaurant, the familiarity crashing into him when a middle-aged woman comes out to lead them to a table. Once they’ve got their jackets off and settled in their seats, Minghao looks at Junhui, wondering if he’d give him an explanation. 

“We’ve been here before,” Junhui offers, briefly glancing up from his laminated menu as if reading his mind. Seconds after, he goes back to scribbling on the notepad. “You don’t mind if I order, do you? There are a few favorites I like.”

Minghao blinks and starts nodding despite Junhui not looking at him. “I’ll just follow your lead, hyung.”

Junhui’s pencil stops, glancing up at him once again. He takes another few seconds to mull something over, scribbling something else before he neatly puts the pencil down and gathers the menus, flagging down the lady they saw earlier. 

Minghao wonders what Junhui saw, if he was confused by the title Minghao chose to call him with. 

To his surprise, Junhui just leans back in his seat and takes out his phone, scrolling for something. “Sorry it took a while to message you. I was waiting for the owner to tell me that their specials had finished marinating properly. I really wanted to try it fresh, you know?” he says, flipping his phone around to show Minghao his screen. His chat history with _‘Store Owner Auntie’_ and his excited emoji, exclamation-filled reactions at her message of _‘it’s ready’._

Minghao chuckles at it. Junhui was still the same. “It’s alright.” He tries to ignore the thumping in his chest, picturing Junhui waiting for some food at his favorite Chinese restaurant to be ready just to invite Minghao out. 

It’s dangerous, Minghao decides, being around Junhui like this when his heart and his hand are still trying to reach out, when the way Junhui is smiling at him is too achingly familiar, when it feels like Junhui looks at him the way he used to— almost like he feels the same way Minghao does.

He clears his throat, pressing his nails into his palm and tells himself not to make up any fantasies. He has to get used to things being like this, to having a limited closeness with Junhui. He has to find a way to train his heart to adapt to this halted version of intimacy. 

Junhui tucks his phone back into his jacket pocket, patting the clothed lump on the bench before he turns back around to face Minghao. “So I wanted to ask you what your schedule was like coming up.”

“My schedule?” Minghao prompts, fidgeting with his napkin. 

“Mm-hm,” Junhui hums, taking the pitcher of water and small cups from the server. “We’re starting to finish up the read-throughs of the script I showed you before.” His focus is solely on pouring the water, refusing to even glance up at Minghao. “I was wondering if you’d have time to drop by. Like to watch. See how it starts coming together.”

This is their new normal, Minghao reminds himself, their new dangerous normal. “You want me to come watch?” he asks, trying to silence his greedy, disobedient heart. 

“Yeah.” Junhui places the small cup in front of Minghao, still not looking up. “If you. If you ever have time. Just. If you want.”

Minghao’s breath gets trapped in his throat, heart stopping, suspended in time. When his foolish heart starts beating again, it echoes remnants of another time at him, of the last time he felt like he was doing something so fool-hearted. 

_“Over the past month or so, I’ve only technically known you for about five hours. Almost six, if we count this lunch.”_

_“Are you saying that’s too little? I’m glad we agree! I’d like to spend more time with you too. I asked my agency if you could do a test shoot, as a condition to see if you could be signed on full-time. I know you’re freelance so it’s just, you know, only if you want it.”_

It’s dangerous. He can still hear the traces of fondness in Junhui’s voice, can still see the past in Junhui’s eyes. Minghao knows it’s dangerous, being around Junhui and staying by his side like this, but it’s what he wants. Even if Junhui is it for him, even if Junhui is the only one he’ll want. Even if he can't do anything about it.

Junhui’s finger is tracing up and down the ridged grooves of his own small cup. “It’s okay if you have other models to spend time with instea—”

“I’ll go,” Minghao says, surprised at his voice’s ability to completely mask the fluttering in his chest. 

Junhui gaze snaps up, surprised. “You will?” 

Minghao nods, sipping at his water. “I will. I’d like to see what script you went with.”

Junhui’s lips are already stretching into a wide smile, bright and pure, while his eyes sparkle in excitement. It vanishes too soon, as the lady from before places a plate of dumplings between them. 

Minghao’s heart continues rattling and he starts wondering, if it’s so dangerous, why does being with Junhui somehow also seem safe.

+++

Hansol decided to put off telling Myungho about his relationship for another few days. This was partly due to worry of unnecessarily adding to Myungho’s stress somehow and partly because Seungkwan couldn’t find a chance in his schedule to drop by, and he refused to let Hansol tell Myungho without him. Hansol couldn’t find it in him to go against Seungkwan’s wishes.

Maybe it’s mostly due to that second reason, but Hansol still worries about Myungho.

He hadn’t talked about what happened at his meeting and Hansol didn’t pry because it didn’t seem like any of his business. If it were work-related and involved Hansol, Myungho would definitely tell him. But he didn’t say much when he came back to the studio that day, just smiled at Hansol —tired and clearly for show, clearly just for him— and returned to his desk. He’d briefly searched the surface of his desk and continued working at his computer, thanking Hansol for taking over the actor schedule he did. 

Hansol hadn’t thought much of it, really. He chalked the meeting up to work responsibilities being added to Myungho’s plate that didn’t involve him so Hansol didn’t feel the need to ask. 

One of the things Hansol does notice is that Junhwi hasn’t stopped by the studio to sit with Myungho the past week. He doesn’t want to necessarily think the events are related but he does notice the effect it has on Myungho’s demeanor. It isn’t that Myungho has been uncharacteristically cold or moody or anything particular that Hansol can point at like he could before; Myungho’s just been quiet, only really speaking when necessary. 

So when Seungkwan finally texts and says he’s able to make it to their building to meet them this week, right at the end of the day, Hansol takes the chance. 

“Hyung,” Hansol calls into the studio after he comes back from sneaking Seungkwan up from the front entrance. Myungho is at his desk, clicking away at his editing screen. It possibly makes it awkward as Hansol stands stiffly in the doorway instead of coming in, keeping an eye on Seungkwan waiting in the hallway.

“Yes, Hansol-ah?” Myungho looks up, curious but with a small attentive smile. “What’s up?” 

“About what I wanted to talk to you about before. Last week, when you had your meeting,” he clarifies, shoving his hands in his jacket pocket. “Do you uh, do you have time now?” 

Myungho’s brow furrows, lips curling into a frown, swivelling his chair to face him. “Is this about whatever you broke? Did you leave the note on my desk like I asked? I couldn’t find it.”

Hansol’s hands suddenly feel clammy. He folds them politely in front of him and puts on a wide toothy smile. “Uh.” He looks off to his side at Seungkwan waiting beside the door frame, frowning and clearly judging. “There was no note, hyung.”

“Hansol-ah, is everything okay?” Myungho asks, cautiously getting up from his seat and walking over. “I won’t get mad if you broke something, but I need to know so we can replace it.”

Hansol hurriedly nods, and drags Seungkwan’s arm to stand beside him. “Uh, hyung, I didn’t leave a note because I didn’t break anything.”

Myungho’s brow furrows when he notices Seungkwan, clearly confused. “Kwan-ah, what are you doing here? Is Mingyu okay?”

Graciously, Seungkwan waves a hand up and down. “Oh, don’t worry, hyung, he’s fine,” he assures with a bright smile, glancing at Hansol as a silent signal of reassurance before straightening his posture, seeming overly stiff.

Hansol clears his throat and takes a deep breath and smiles towards his boss. “Don’t be too alarmed but I’m dating.”

Myungho does not seem surprised. His face gradually relaxes, a sort of recognition settling on his features. Hansol starts wondering if he’d been too obvious about their relationship, if Myungho really did already know and was just waiting for Hansol to announce it, if he wasn’t as good at concealing as he thought he was. 

Hansol makes a face, nervousness fading off. They really should have told him sooner.

Myungho shifts his gaze from Hansol’s face to Seungkwan’s and then back again, frown deepening. “Hansol-ah, I uh. Are you sure you want to have this conversation now?”

Hansol blinks. “What do you mean?” 

Myungho sighs. “We don’t have to talk about this now. Wouldn’t you rather have this conversation without Kwan-ah here? He probably has to go manage Mingyu, he doesn’t have to—”

“What? No, hyung,” Hansol urges. “I’m dating Seungkwannie. That’s why he’s here.”

The way Seungkwan bobs his head is way too reminiscent of a _‘duh’_ and Hansol tries to subtly hit his arm to get him to stop. Just because Seungkwan can get away with whatever disregard for social hierarchies out of Myungho’s love for him doesn’t mean that Hansol has the same immunities. He might as well spit on Myungho’s work and Hansol isn’t about to do that. Seungkwan’s out of his damn mind. Cute, but out of his mind and could possibly get Hansol killed. 

Myungho’s voice raises in a confused noise as he pauses, tilting his head back. He looks between them again. “Wait,” he says, focusing back on Hansol. “Wait, _what?_ You’re dating Seungkwan?”

“Yes.”

Myungho’s expression twists in ways Hansol has never seen before. It shifts through confusion, disbelief, hope, suspicion, disapprovement, and slight disgust before he sighs, restarting. “Hansol-ah, one of the reasons I enjoyed working with you was because you know when to joke and when to not,” he says slowly, eyes regarding him. “So you tell me right now, are you fucking with me?”

Hansol’s hand shoots out to grab Seungkwan’s wrist, sensing he’s about to start saying something explosively emotional. “No, hyung, I’m not,” he replies, maintaining steady eye contact with him. “I wouldn’t do that with something like that. Especially not with you.”

 _“You”_ —Myungho moves in front of Seungkwan— “are dating you?” Myungho’s back in front of Hansol. “ _Seungkwan-ah_ is your boyfriend?”

Seungkwan huffs. “Why do you make it sound so unbelievable, hyung?” he protests, stomping a foot and clearly getting tired. 

Myungho’s eyes are focused solely on Hansol, waiting for his answer. And seemingly ignoring Seungkwan. 

“Yes, hyung, we’re dating. Seungkwan is my boyfriend,” Hansol says with a firm nod. He resists the urge to add that he finds Seungkwan cute as his reasoning.

Myungho lets out a long sigh, crossing his arms. “Does Jun-hyung know?”

Hansol glances at Seungkwan, silently trying to ask if this is something Myungho has done in the past. He knows Junhwi hasn’t been coming to the studio lately but he doesn’t know what that has to do with this.

“What?” Seungkwan asks with a frown, luckily on the same page. “That’s such a weird thing to ask, hyung! What does _that_ have to do with anything?”

Myungho blinks, unbothered. “Does he know or not?” 

Hansol instinctively holds an arm up at his side to prevent Seungkwan from lunging forward. “He does,” he replies seriously, still watching Myungho. He doesn’t know what’s going on but this is clearly not going the way he expected. Or how Seungkwan expected, based on how outlandishly offended he seems to be. “He was helping me, like with advice and stuff. And Seungkwan’s a huge fan of his so Jun-hyung was helping me with that stuff. He knows.” 

“Hansol!” Seungkwan whines from beside him.

Myungho’s head starts quickly shaking, eyes never leaving him. “So when you were getting Jun-hyung’s autograph for your date,” he says, looking at Hansol, “that was for _you?_ ” He’s pointing at Seungkwan again, voice still full of disbelief. Like his mind still hasn’t wrapped around the idea yet. 

Seungkwan clamps onto Hansol’s arm, burying his face in his shoulder. “Oh my god, this is so embarrassing,” he mumbles before looking at Myungho again, cheek pressing against Hansol’s shoulder. “I didn’t know he was your boyfriend, hyung!”

Hansol nods. “Yeah, it was so I could ask out Seungkwan,” he answers simply. If this is what Seungkwan means as part of Myungho’s line of questioning, trying to see if Hansol is a good or attentive enough of a boyfriend for Seungkwan, Hansol is sure there shouldn’t be a problem there. He doesn’t mention that Seungkwan really wanted the autograph, which he thinks Seungkwan appreciates when he feels the squeeze on his arm tighten. 

“What the fuck,” Myungho breathes out. “What the fuck, what the fuck.” He starts murmuring to himself for a bit and Hansol starts getting worried, only comforted by Seungkwan leaning his cheek further into his shoulder. Then Myungho seems to realize something and tucks a fist under his chin, eyes still darting between them. “How long?”

“Huh?” Seungkwan almost squawks.

“How long?” Hansol repeats curiously. 

“How. Long?” Myungho asks, slower and more insistent, somehow still carrying a hint of impatience.

Hansol feels his eyes flutter in blinks. “How long have Seungkwan and I been dating or how long has Jun-hyung known? Or how long has Seungkwan not known that Jun-hyung was your boyfriend?”

Myungho scoffs, waving a hand around. “How long have you been dating?”

Seungkwan’s mouth opens, about to answer but Myungho holds up a hand.

“No _wait,_ how long _has_ Jun-hyung known?”

 _“What?”_ Seungkwan explosively almost shrieks, lifting his head from Hansol’s shoulder. 

Hansol blinks again. “Since the mid-autumn festival. He's known since we got back from the holiday.” He glances at Seungkwan who seems just as lost as he is at Myungho’s reaction. At this point, he guesses that just answering Myungho’s questions seems like the easier route to go. 

Myungho takes a deep breath, looking down and off somewhere. Hansol isn’t completely sure but he thinks the color starts draining from Myungho’s face, eyes widening and shining with confusion and hope and wonder. His chest rises in a shuddering uneven breath. “Son of a _bitch._ ”

“Hyung?” Hansol asks curiously, head tilting. 

Myungho’s eyes flutter in a series of blinks, as if recentering himself as he looks between them again. He steps forward, reaching a hand out that holds the back of Hansol’s head. “I’m very happy for you, Hansol-ah,” he says, placing a quick and unexpected kiss to Hansol’s forehead. “I’m glad you told me.”

Seungkwan gasps an indignant noise from beside him.

Myungho chuckles, gently patting Seungkwan on the cheek. “You’ll be fine, Kwan-ah. Hansol-ah’s a good kid. I’m happy for you.” He heads past them and towards the door. By the time he and Seungkwan whirl around, the door clicks shut and Myungho is already gone.

Seungkwan turns to him. “What the hell was _that?_ ”

Hansol chuckles, reaching for Seungkwan’s hand. “I dunno, but I think it went well. He seemed to approve.” He beams, not one to try to overthink a good thing. 

Seungkwan seems to disagree, his bottom lip coming out in another pout. “Yeah, but— but!” His eyes swell, making frequent looks between Hansol and the door like a lost chicken.

Hansol isn’t able to keep himself from laughing, patting his shoulder. “Are you upset that Myungho-hyung didn’t excessively grill me in his overprotective love for you? I thought what was important was that Myungho-hyung approved.”

“It is but!” Seungkwan makes frequent noises as he keeps looking towards the door and back to Hansol, somehow worried about something. 

Hansol takes the chance to press a kiss to his cheek. “If you’re upset about not getting to protect me from Myungho-hyung, we can find something else you can protect me from later,” he offers in an attempt to pacify his boyfriend’s need to fight something. 

Seungkwan’s eyes flicker up at him, tempted. “Hm, like what?” 

“Hm, Mingyu-hyung, your roommate, your dog?” Hansol lists off, moving strands from Seungkwan’s face.

“Bookkeu is not that bad!” Seungkwan objects, pouting again. His eyes travel along Hansol’s face for a few seconds before he relents. “But yeah, okay. I know how to handle Mingyu-hyung and my roommate _is_ sort of scary.”

Hansol hums. “He’s very scary.” He had only met Seungkwan’s roommate once, when he actually happened to be home instead of teaching like usual. It was… an experience. An intense, explosive, energetic yelling experience. 

“I just can’t believe you got a forehead kiss! And I didn’t! What the hell, hyung!” Seungkwan asks towards the door. 

Hansol chuckles, slotting his hand into Seungkwan’s. “I don’t get it either but I’m sure he still loves you. As long as we got his approval, right?” His work atmosphere no longer has to suffer, anyway. Myungho knows now and Myungho’s okay with it. 

“Yeah, I guess,” Seungkwan grumbles. 

Hansol takes the chance to kiss the pout off his lips. Suddenly Seungkwan gasps, pulling away slightly. “What? What’s wrong?” Hansol asks, watching his boyfriend fumble his free hand into his pocket for his phone. 

“I left Mingyu-hyung alone for too long,” Seungkwan says through a pout, sounding quite decided and determined as he taps at his phone. “Something happened, I think he needs something.”

Hansol frowns. “What makes you say that? Did he send you something?”

“Shh!” Seungkwan hurriedly shushes, holding his phone to his ear. “Mingyu-hyung!” he chimes happily.

+++

Minghao lets his feet move in an automatic path towards the cafeteria while he goes over the last few minutes in his head. Hansol and Seungkwan are dating, and have been dating for weeks. The things he was so sure about for months now have been thrown out, tossed around, turned on its head and he feels like he’s spinning and swimming all at once. 

Junhui and Hansol weren’t dating. Junhui wasn’t dating Hansol. 

Junhui wasn’t dating. 

It feels foolishly dangerous, but somehow his heart keeps fluttering out hope, whispering temptations into his head and trying to latch onto any sign that Junhui might somehow reciprocate his feelings. That somehow even after all the years and hurt settled behind them, after Minghao has resigned himself, that there still might be another chance for at least one of his foolish little hopes to come true. 

Junhui hasn’t been dating for weeks. Suddenly, every interaction Minghao had with him over the past few months gets thrown into question. He doesn’t know if he can trust his own memories anymore, too tainted by his affection and _feelings_ for Junhui. He can’t tell if he imagined the awe in Junhui’s voice when he talked about Minghao’s work, if he invented the fondness in Junhui’s expression when he showed Minghao his script, if he fabricated the longing and ache in Junhui’s eyes after he gave Minghao his birthday present.

He orders a tea from the cafeteria, opting for a white tea this time. As he sips on it and heads back to the studio, he tries to sort through the facts in his mind, everything he knows is absolutely certain. Although he’s pretty sure his hope has already seeped through his veins, spreading until it takes over his body and infects his heart. 

Hope can be good, hope can take him up high and give him everything he wants. But false hope can send him crashing into destruction. It’s a delicate line that gets more and more blurry the more Minghao thinks about it and it’s one he can’t afford to mess up. 

He spends the rest of the afternoon trying to figure it out, the question bleeding into his mind even while he completes his other shoots and edits them at his desk, unable to focus on much else.

If Junhui is free and has lingering feelings for Minghao, why would he say it’s too late for them? Why was he trying to keep a distance between them?

He runs through Junhui’s words in his mind over and over again, until he can no longer make sense of them, morphed and melded into his own game of telephone telling Minghao all the things he wants to hear. 

Luckily, Junhui hasn’t come by the studio to deliver tea lately. Hasn’t come by much at all since his photoshoots have slowed down and he no longer has a need to watch Minghao edit. (Because why would Junhui want to watch Minghao edit photos of people who weren’t him?) Minghao thinks it’s fine because he doesn’t know how he would face Junhui like this, thoughts still jumbled up and untrustworthy.

He needs perspective, someone outside his own head. Someone who would know Junhui’s words and expressions, knows the history of the relationship between himself and Junhui but wouldn’t taint their interactions with biased emotions. He’ll know, Minghao thinks. He’ll help Minghao understand.

“I was wondering when you’d come to me,” Jisoo says with a pleasant smile and sparkling eyes. He adjusts the coaster in front of him, aligning it neatly with himself and smiling at his soju. “Took you long enough. So, what can I do for you?”

Minghao swings a little in his seat. He’d asked Jisoo out to meet him alone whenever he had time and Jisoo had texted him to meet him that evening, along with the address of a bar. Apparently it was a few blocks from his apartment so the manager could just walk home. Minghao did offer to pay for a taxi but Jisoo insisted this wasn’t out of the ordinary for him. The bar he picked was small, but crowded, enough that Minghao wasn’t so self-conscious about being overheard or noticed. 

“Uh.” Minghao drawls, eyes drifting from Jisoo’s face to his own bottle of soju. “Well I figured you probably know Junnie best so I was wondering if you could… I guess, uh.” He stops himself, taking a swig to recollect his thoughts. He thought he had this planned out. Actually asking Jisoo for his perspective on his relationship with Junhui feels far more intimidating than he thought. He hopes it doesn’t have to do with the awkwardness of not really having spent time alone with Jisoo before, and the time he is, it’s to ask about someone else.

“Look, Myungho,” Jisoo starts, calm yet firm, folding his hands neatly in front of him on the table. “I spent the entire time in Jinhua with Junnie, and I’ve been his manager for two years before that. I can tell you that I still probably don’t know him half as well as you do.” The smile on his face as he tilts his head is still gentle and patient, disappearing only when he takes his own swig of soju. “But if you still feel like you need to ask me something, go ahead.”

Minghao clears his throat, looking slightly off to the side, blinking several times. “How uh, how _was_ he in Jinhua?” It’s something he wondered often but never felt comfortable asking Junhui directly. He wasn’t sure what sort of answer he would get. Knowing Junhui, he’d be the type to tell Minghao that he got along fine, anything to keep Minghao from worrying. He figures this is his only chance to find out.

Jisoo hums, propping his elbow on the table to sit his chin in his palm. “He was miserable, as you’d expect,” he says with a shrug, staring off at the wall behind Minghao. “He was just dumped, after all. He didn’t talk much the first few weeks unless he really had to. He would mostly just communicate through me using eye signals and gestures. I’m sure you remember those.” The end of his sentence bubbles off into a few fond giggles at the recollection.

Sure Minghao remembers. The incident with the won notes back when they met, there isn’t a way he’d forget. Minghao puffs out an amused exhale, nodding for him to continue.

“It was hell for me because he knew Mandarin was refusing to use it while I managed to just get by using English and more gestures,” Jisoo recalls, sighing. “He did cause a lot of trouble for me in the beginning, suddenly asking to go accept an offer he wasn’t previously looking at and then having me arrange for him to leave right away. I had to stay back a few days to take care of a few things so he left on his own.

“Anyway, he met up with Yanan on set again after a few weeks. You met him, he was like the most pure being ever that Junnie couldn’t really keep up the cold silent routine with him. I think it was what Junnie needed because he started talking again.”

Minghao grunts and swallows a lump in his throat, nodding some more and he downs the rest of his soju in one shot. He puts the empty glass down with an aggressive _clink._

Jisoo eyes the bottle and smirks, still mostly unmoving before he flickers his eyes back to Minghao. “Nothing happened between them if that’s what you’re thinking,” he says, taking a small swig for himself and signalling to the wait staff for another round. “They were really good friends, the media just played up relationship rumors at the time to promote the movie.”

Minghao remembers those articles. They came out about a month and a half after Junhui left. One of the costume designers asked him about it during one of the photoshoots he’d done with the musical theatre department. It was also his second reported incident with Chan for _“getting into fights.”_

He looks at Jisoo, about to argue that he didn’t say anything but decides against it because of course Jisoo knows better than that. The server coming by to swap Minghao’s empty bottle with a new one is also a welcome distraction. After she pops it open and walks away, Minghao nods at him. “You were saying?”

If Jisoo finds his behavior questionable, he doesn’t show it. Instead, he pushes his smile up higher, tracing his finger along the condensation at the side of his bottle. “A few weeks later, I hired Renjun as an interpreter. He was a big help since he and I both spoke English but he knew Mandarin and I only knew Korean. Then there was Junnie with Mandarin and Korean with no English so I figured why not,” Jisoo reminisces, chuckling at his own decisions. “He ended up doing more translating than me, which was fine because I could focus on my managing duties and Renjun tried teaching him English for a bit. 

“One day Junnie told me he was going to be out late because Renjun had asked him on a date. I was a bit surprised and even he seemed a little unsure about it at first, but Junnie said he wanted to go. Don’t hate me but I was happy for him.” Jisoo smiles at Minghao’s direction, who just stares blankly at him through another swig, drawing a small chuckle out of him. And then it fades as he briefly looks at their bottles again. “But when he came back that day, Junnie said he didn’t feel anything.”

Minghao can feel Jisoo’s eyes flick to him for a second. He finds his lips pressing together in a small squished smile before he catches himself, controlling his expression back to neutral.

Jisoo takes a small sip of his own. “He sounded so sad though. But he told me he went because it was nice to feel wanted.”

Minghao downs the rest of his soju again, sighing loudly when he puts the bottle down. He idly drums his fingers along the side of the bottle, letting the implication of his words sink heavy in his chest. His own words sit heavy on his tongue, the question trapped in his throat, of why Junhui would put so much distance between them and say it’s too late if this is how he felt. 

“You think you should get that?” Jisoo asks, expression still serenely calm as ever, smile unflinching. When Minghao blankly stares at him in response, Jisoo nods towards Minghao’s phone buzzing away at his pocket. “It’s okay, I’ll wait.” He takes a small sip of his soju as Minghao pulls out his phone. 

He almost considers declining the call when he sees the caller display but Jisoo’s watching him with a knowing glint and Minghao answers. “[Hi, Yixing-gē.]”

_“Ah, I was wondering where you went. Did you get my last text messages? About our next date?”_

“Right, yes, those. I did,” Minghao replies, biting his lip. He’s enormously self-conscious of Jisoo watching him, as if gauging his responses. “I don’t think I’ll be able to go out with you again any time soon.”

To his surprise, Yixing chuckles with a slight lilting hum. _“Oh, that’s too bad. Something come up?”_

Minghao nods, despite Yixing not being able to see him. “Yeah, I uh, I just can’t. You’re great but I don’t think….” He trails off, explanations vanishing on his tongue. 

_“Was there something I did?”_ Yixing sounds genuinely concerned and it makes this even harder for Minghao.

“No, of course not. You didn’t do anything wrong, I just.” He takes a deep breath. “You’re really great. Smart, funny, charming, but you’re just not” _—Junhui—_ “right for me.”

 _“Ah,”_ Yixing sighs. _“So I guess we’re breaking up?”_

“We weren’t really dating to begin with,” Minghao counters lightly, focused on looking anywhere but Jisoo. “I’m sure you’ll be fine.” 

_“Maybe, but it was worth a try,”_ Yixing replies, smirk evident in his voice. He takes a few seconds before he says, _“Well, feel free to keep my number in case you ever change your mind.”_

“I won’t,” Minghao says quickly, “change my mind, I mean.” The movement of Jisoo picking up his soju bottle catches his eye, reminding him of the manager’s presence. “[Have a good night, gē.]”

When Minghao hangs up and slips the phone back in his pocket, Jisoo is still calmly watching him. “One of your other boyfriends?”

Minghao sighs, reaching for his drink again. “I don’t _have_ other boyfriends.” He pauses, hand lingering on the bottle. “I don’t even have the one so how could I have others?” he asks, waiting for an answer. He looks up, about to explain that the question wasn’t rhetorical, but stops short.

“He finally gave that to you, did he?” Jisoo’s eyes are flashing at Minghao’s wrist, expression lighting up and lips pulling into a knowing smirk and still sitting prettily in his hand. 

Minghao instinctively retracts his hand, pulling it close to himself. His other hand clamps around the silver bracelet almost protectively. “What do you mean?”

Jisoo chuckles. “I was with Junnie when he bought that the first time we were in Dongyang, when you two were still together,” he says, recalling the story almost fondly. “He dragged me to so many vendors because he thought none of the ones we were looking at were good enough. He even called your mom to ask if you were allergic to any metals just in case. Of course, she asked why and Junnie told her he was picking out a gift for you but he wanted it to be a surprise so he couldn’t ask you himself.”

Minghao takes a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart thundering in his ears. Of course Junhui would do that and try to make it sound like no big deal when he gave it to him. Of fucking course.

“The last time I saw it was when he was packing his luggage after he called me and told me what happened,” Jisoo says slowly, voice growing more cautious. “I was surprised because I thought he’d given it to you when we landed.” 

Minghao looks down and jingles the sunflower charm against his skin. “Why are you telling me this?”

“He finally gave it to you.” Jisoo’s eyes drift back to Minghao’s wrist. “I just thought you’d like to know.” He’s silent for a few moments, looking down to stamp the soju bottle into the coaster. Then he glances at Minghao again. “Have you seen any of his press interviews while he was in Jinhua? By any chance?” he asks curiously.

“Not all the way through.” In truth, Minghao couldn’t sit through them. Not for a lack of trying, though. He pulled up so many of Junhui’s interviews, pressed play and then would only last less than a minute before he would pause it, tell himself he’ll come back to it and then never did. 

“Well, I think you should,” Jisoo suggests with another gentle smile. He flags the server down and starts gathering his phone and jacket. “I’ll have Wonwoo send you something.”

Minghao blinks up at him, starting to gather his jacket also. “Hyung?”

Jisoo shrugs, glint in his eye as he puts his jacket on. “I think you should see it, it should answer most of your questions. Then come find me if you have any more.” He types something quickly into his phone before he pockets it. The smile he gives Minghao is warm, but slightly tired. 

Minghao insists on walking Jisoo back to his building, confident in his ability to hail a taxi on his own, and goes along with Jisoo’s well-natured barb about how this is a nice change of pace for them. When Jisoo begins to head into his building, Minghao calls a small thanks to him. 

To his surprise, Jisoo turns around. “Maybe I was too subtle last time. I told you, I don’t think it’d be the worst thing for you to fix it. So you better fix it,” he says, laughing. “For sure this time.”

+++

Junhui knocks on Wonwoo’s door, anxiously waiting for his friend to let him in. He has a lot to let out of his chest and he needs Wonwoo’s rational head and clear words to help ground his mess of emotions. The reprieve he thought he’d get from finally having Minghao explain their breakup to him isn’t there. It isn’t there and talking to Wonwoo usually helps sort his feelings out. 

However, when the door swings open, it’s not Wonwoo’s face greeting him on the other side. 

“Junhwi-ssi!”

Junhui blinks. “Mingyu?” He backs up and checks the address before looking back at the cheerful figure standing at the doorway. “Uh, this is Wonwoo’s place, right?”

“Yep!” Mingyu exclaims, clamping his hands around Junhui’s wrist to tug him in. Junhui hurriedly toes off his shoes and doesn’t get a chance to set them aside as Mingyu keeps pulling him towards Wonwoo’s room. “Wonwoo-hyung, look who’s here!”

Wonwoo doesn’t look away from his computer monitors, typing and clicking away. “Hi, Jun-ah.”

“Hi,” Junhui lets out in flat confusion. “Uh, why is Mingyu-ssi here?”

“He’s a guest,” Wonwoo replies simply, still typing. “You’re already acquainted, aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” Junhui breathes out, the end sound trailing out somewhat unevenly.

“Junhwi-ssi!” Mingyu chirps at the same time, turning to face him. “Are you busy right now?” he asks excitedly, lightly swinging Junhui’s wrist that he still has a grip on. It matches the tail that Junhui can imagine would be deftly swinging behind him.

Junhui looks between the two of them and draws out an unsure “No?” that raises a bit too high in tone. 

“Do you mind if I film you for something?” Mingyu asks, eagerly stepping a bit forward. 

Before Junhui can formulate a response, Wonwoo dryly interrupts, “Yah, Mingyu, I thought you had enough footage. And I told you that you could just film yourself and use that if you really need it.”

“Ugh, hyung, it’s not practice for my filmography skills if I just use your tripod.”

“I thought you just wanted to work on your editing skills,” Wonwoo replies, just as quick. 

“I wanna do all of it. We talked about this, I take my hobbies very seriously.”

“There’s nothing wrong with working with a few stationary shots, Mingyu-yah.”

“I don’t _want_ to do stationary shots, I want to move the camera around, control all the angles and stuff. That’s what a cinematographer _does,_ hyung.”

“You don’t have to use Junnie for that.”

“I would use you as my subject but you don’t want to leave your chair.”

“Because I’m working, Mingyu. You know as well as I do that these clips don’t edit themselves.”

Junhui blinks, wondering if this is how Hansol felt at one point as his eyes bounce between whoever’s speaking at the time. “Uhh, Mingyu-ssi, I don’t mind,” he interjects nervously. 

Mingyu gasps, excited. “Wonderful!” he exclaims, hands moving to cup around Junhui’s hand instead.

“Ugh, Jun-ah, don’t indulge him,” Wonwoo says, still unmoving from his desk.

“Do you mind if we go down to the parking garage?” Mingyu asks, ignoring him. 

Junhui just blinks again. “Uh, sure?”

At the parking garage, Mingyu seemed to just want Junhui to walk around, passing by the cars. The direction was a little unclear but the gist that Junhui gets is just footage that Mingyu can use to sew together into a fake ad for practice, even asking Junhui to go back up and change clothes a few times. Junhui doesn’t mind, it’s a nice distraction from his thoughts at the moment, even if he can’t unload them like he would with Wonwoo. Mingyu is unflinchingly friendly that Junhui would find it hard _not_ to relax around him. 

As Mingyu pauses to check the footage back, after about twenty-six minutes of shooting odd scenes, and Junhui comes by to check it, he thinks about what he can talk to Mingyu about that doesn’t feel awkward. “Ah! I wanted to ask you. You said if I said your manager’s name, he suddenly appears, right?” 

Mingyu turns to him, his eyes becoming frighteningly concerned as he lifts his chin. “Yes?” His pitch raises unusually high.

Junhui presses on. “When I was with Hansollie, we said his name a bunch of times and nothing happened,” he says with a pout. “Are you sure it’s real?” 

“It’s real,” Mingyu says firmly, camera lowering. “I’ve had to deal with it for years.” He gets an odd look on his face as he stares off for a few seconds, like he’d been genuinely haunted. He seemingly snaps out of it, head whipping back to Junhui. “Did you purposely say his name to _try to summon him?”_ he asks in harsh whispers.

Junhui quickly shakes his head. “Not intentionally! Hansollie and I were already talking about him and I noticed nothing happened when I mentioned him.”

Mingyu’s brow furrows. “You said his full name and everything?”

Junhui gives a few eager nods, determined to figure out this new mystery. “His given name. Do I need his family name too?”

“No,” Mingyu replies, tone dull and dragging, “it usually works with just his given name. That’s weird.”

“That’s what I’m saying! I totally believed you when you mentioned it last time. But when I tried it with Hansollie, nothing happened so I thought—” Junhui stops himself, not wanting to accuse Mingyu of being unnecessarily paranoid. “I thought it didn’t work.” 

Mingyu’s eyes scrunch shut as he quickly shakes his head. “No, trust me. It works. It always works, even when I don’t want it to.” Junhui guesses his disappointment is obvious on his face because a few seconds later, Mingyu sighs. “You really wanna see it, huh?”

“Uh,” Junhui stammers out, a bit thrown off. “Well, it’s not like I think you’re _lying,_ it’s just….” He trails off, not sure how he wants to end this sentence without offending Mingyu. 

Mingyu sighs again and looks around, slightly paranoid before he leans forward. “Fine, you can try it. Once. When we’re done. I need time to brace myself.”

And so Mingyu asks for a few more shots, heading out of the parking garage and towards the parking lot out back. Mingyu seems to enjoy using the evening sky with the street lamps and gets a few more clips of Junhui doing whatever random things he thinks of. Junhui has fun, even if his direction is not as clear as Minghao’s.

Being alone with Mingyu is something Junhui doesn’t quite know how to get used to, given their odd but also somehow nearly non-existent history. He always feels like there’s some presence looming over them that neither wants to address. Maybe it only bothers Junhui and maybe that’s why Junhui is too uncomfortable bringing it up. 

After Junhui’s shivering has convinced Mingyu to head back inside and they sit on the steps that lead from the parking garage back to the apartments because Mingyu wanted to check the footage again away from Wonwoo, Junhui decides to try. “Can I ask you something else?”

A small affirmative noise leaves Mingyu’s throat as he nods, still flickering through his camera footage.

Junhui waits until he sees the screen has dimmed. “You said before that Myungho saying you hated me was a misunderstanding, right?” he says slowly. “He told me you fought a lot back then, he said he couldn’t understand you and you wouldn’t talk to him.”

Mingyu’s movements still, as if he knows where Junhui’s thoughts are leading. His head slowly turns and he gives a curt nod.

“I used to think it was my fault that you guys fought but,” Junhui continues, finally looking up at him, straightening his back, “you had feelings for Myungho, didn’t you?” he asks as delicately as he can despite the tight grip he has on his own knees. Junhui doesn’t know why he’s asking; he’s pretty sure he already knows what the answer is. He feels like he sensed it weeks ago. There was no way he couldn’t. 

But for some reason, he needs to hear Mingyu say it to him anyway. Maybe it will finally quell the cloud he thinks has been hovering over them.

Mingyu finally stops moving, lips pressing together as he just stares at Junhui, eyes slightly unsteady. Whether he’s searching for some sort of hint or weighing his answers, Junhui doesn’t know. 

Suddenly he feels embarrassed for trying to ask, averting his gaze and quickly adds, “Sorry, that was dumb, I shouldn’t have said anyth—” 

“That was a long time ago.”

Junhui looks back up at Mingyu, heart pulsing at the seriousness in his voice. Having his suspicions confirmed doesn’t feel as good as he thought it would. It just makes him feel guilty and gross.

Mingyu quirks his head to the side a little, offering a warm smile as if reading his thoughts. “It’s not an issue now so don’t worry.”

Junhui feels his eyes fluttering and he swallows a particularly stubborn lump in his throat. “I thought, I thought you and Myungho were dating now. He went on a date with you the other week, right? Around Halloween?”

Mingyu clicks his camera off, leaning forward over his knees. “No, the only date I went on recently was with Wonwoo-hyung last weekend,” he says innocently, tilting his head like a curious puppy. “I haven’t really spoken to Myungho since the shoot I did with you about a month ago.” 

“So you don’t know who Myungho went on a date with?” 

Mingyu frowns, shaking his head. “No, sorry,” he says almost pitifully, like he really didn’t want to be giving Junhui bad news like this. “I didn't even know Myungho went _on_ a date. Jungkookie’s been trying to set him up for _ages—_ ” He pauses, nervously glancing at Junhui. “Uhh, I didn’t say that.” 

Junhui doesn’t know who that is but figures it must be a friend of them both. “Are you and Myungho fighting again? If you haven’t spoken?” 

“Oh, no, no,” Mingyu assures with a smile and a few nervous-looking hand waves. “We’re kind of just like that now. Don’t talk as often, have more space, you know? But we’re still super comfortable when we do meet so it’s chill.” 

When Mingyu puts it like that, it sounded like how Junhui found himself with Wonwoo and he finds himself smiling. Wonwoo didn’t make too big of a deal about Junhui leaving for Jinhua, just asked that Junhui video chat with him when he could, or at least text so he was still part of his life. Meeting up with Wonwoo always felt the same, no matter how many years or events happened between them.

“We uh,” Mingyu continues, suddenly scratching at his cheek, “we don’t even live together anymore. He moved out a bit after you left, actually.” 

Junhui’s eyes rapidly start blinking, as if it would help him process this information. It’s not like it was a forbidden topic between them, Junhui supposes, he just didn’t think he’d be talking about his leaving with Mingyu, of all people. 

Swallowing down the lump in his throat, Junhui dares to let himself ask, “How uh, how _was_ Myungho when I left?” It was one of the questions Junhui thought about often in Jinhua, one of the few that Jisoo wouldn’t really have an answer for. 

When he tried to imagine and fill in the answer for himself, he always came to the same conclusion that Minghao got along just swimmingly without him, like it didn’t even matter because that was what he thought Minghao wanted. After his talk with Minghao the other day, however, he knows that wasn’t the case. 

And Junhui doesn’t want to necessarily assume that it’s a cause-and-effect situation, Minghao moving out of his apartment with Mingyu after Junhui left. Minghao could have moved out for a number of reasons, reasons that don’t have anything to do with Junhui at all. He isn’t sure he can claim to have that big of an impact on Minghao’s life, despite knowing how true the reverse is for him. 

The corners of Mingyu’s eyes crinkle into a smile, somehow warm and comforting. “You know how Myungho is, right?” he asks as if it were a good-natured joke. “With how secretive he is, I wouldn’t really know. He actually never told me much.” He shrugs, nonchalant, but still smiling. “And even if he did tell me, we both know he’d kill me if I told you.” 

Something warm flutters in Junhui’s chest, swirling and threatening to spread itself through Junhui’s body. He knows the risks of foolishly latching onto hope, that he could easily fall on his face trying to grab the dangling implication that Mingyu’s leaving him. 

Mingyu seems to notice because his smile transforms into a grin, teeth peeking through as he shrugs. “You should know that better than I do.” 

The warmth has made its way to Junhui’s cheeks, at the very least, when he feels them heating up. Nervously, he nods in appreciation. “I’m glad you were with him.” He tries not to read into it the way he wants and decides to take it at its face value; he still has a spot in Minghao’s life. That’s all he could ask for at this point, it would be foolishly selfish to try and ask for more. 

Even if Mingyu isn’t the one Minghao’s dating or even went on a date with, Minghao still went out with someone. And Junhui wouldn’t dare disrupt that for him. However, he’s at a loss for words to fill the silence now, having deemed it too awkwardly late to thank Mingyu for talking to him like this and easing his worries without even realizing it. 

But Mingyu’s head tilts, scratching the back of his neck. “Ah, I’m sorry. I’m making things weird, huh? I’m sort of intimidated again,” he admits, rolling his head until it’s back upright.

Junhui resists the urge to giggle, not wanting it to come off like he’s laughing at him. His brow raises instead. “Like actually intimidated this time? Because of your manager?” he asks in a sort of disbelief. “Just forget all the projects I’ve been in if that helps.”

Mingyu’s head starts shaking as his bottom lip comes out in a pout. “No, not that. But you _are_ good in those,” he answers with a barely-restrained giggle. One of his hands comes up to briefly cover both his eyes, face scrunching. “It hit me that you’re Wonwoo-hyung’s best friend and I’ve been trying to impress him lately.”

There’s a warmth building up in Junhui’s chest again, but in a different way. He lets the giggles he’s been holding back bubble out. “Don’t worry, Mingyu-yah! I’ll put in a good word for you with Wonwoo when we gossip later.” He grins, wide and bright, hoping to reassure Mingyu the way he’s done for him. Junhui and Wonwoo don’t necessarily gossip, not purposely anyway, but Junhui makes a mental note to ask about Wonwoo’s date with Mingyu later on when they _do_ talk. He needs more to tease him about.

Mingyu’s lips stretch in a tight-lipped smile of appreciation as he nods. After a few seconds, it melts off and Mingyu’s expression turns serious again, eyes looking somewhat thoughtful. “He really did miss you while you were gone, you know,” he muses softly. 

Junhui perks up at this, head tilting in confusion since he’s not sure he heard right. “Hm? Wonwoo missed me? I know, he told me,” he answers with a reassuring smile. 

Mingyu’s eyes widen and he quickly shakes his head. “No, not him.”

Junhui feels his heart racing in his chest. He doesn’t know if Mingyu’s saying what Junhui thinks he’s saying, but he doesn’t want to let himself foolishly believe in something again only to fall on his face. “Are you talking about Seungkwan-ah then?”

A sound resembling a whimper comes out of Mingyu and his eyes swell up dramatically. His expression then melts into what reminds Junhui of a frightened puppy. “I-I wasn’t but—”

The cheerful melody of a girl group song interrupts him, intercut with the sounds of buzzing. Junhui’s eyes flit from Mingyu’s frozen tight-lipped shamed expression to the source of the sounds in Mingyu’s pocket. 

When it doesn’t seem like he’s planning on moving, Junhui nods at him. “You can answer it, it’s okay,” he encourages, thinking it might be something about work.

With a dramatically heavy sigh, Mingyu pulls out the offending device, tapping the answer button and holding the phone to his ear. “Yes, Seungkwan-ah?” he says with a tired smile.

He’s not sure why, but Junhui feels fascinated, tempted to clap when he realizes what happened. Mingyu seems to be caught up in a series of rehearsed responses —“Yes, I’m fine. No, I’m not in danger. No, I don’t need anything. Yes, of course I’m sure. I did not, you called _me,_ I can show you my call log later”— and Junhui enthusiastically yells, “Hi Seungkwan-ah!” towards Mingyu’s phone. 

Mingyu’s eyes drift to him in confusion, as if remembering that he’s there. Then Mingyu’s tearing the phone away from his ear while a loud yell erupts from it. _“Mingyu-hyung! What are you doing with Junhwi-ssi! Why didn’t you tell me!”_ comes his panicked voice over the line. 

Junhui tries to mouth an apology at Mingyu but is waved off with a shrug. 

“We’re just filming something, Kwan-ah, don’t—” Mingyu quickly pulls the phone away from his ear again at another screech. “If you scream again, I’m hanging up,” Mingyu warningly droles out. “It’s just some footage I can practice editing later. And you didn’t want to be my filming subject so I asked Jun-hyung. Uh-huh. Well, I have to get back to him now, okay? But don’t worry, I’m fine. See you.” The phone is clicked off and put back into Mingyu’s pocket.

“Sorry about that,” Junhui offers, pulling his sleeves over his hands. “I didn’t know he’d scream.”

The resigned way Mingyu shrugs seemed like he’d gone through this way too many times for it to affect him anymore. “It’s fine, really. He just gets excited easily. Kind of emotional,” he says with another kind smile. “And he really likes your work so it’s to be expected.”

Junhui feels his cheeks flushing up. As much as he liked the performance aspect of acting, he always felt uneasy about the fame parts of it. All he can do is offer a nod and hopes his discomfort is not blatantly obvious when he tries to change the subject. “Hansollie must really have his hands full then, huh?” 

Mingyu’s head tilts at him, eyes wide with curiosity. 

“He and Hansollie are dating now,” Junhui muses, kicking his feet back and forth a little. “It’s really cute.” Mingyu seems surprised at this news, which Junhui didn’t expect since he thought Mingyu would’ve been one of the first to know. Maybe Seungkwan didn’t say anything. “Did he not tell you?”

“He didn’t,” Mingyu replies, sounding thoughtful. It only lasts a few seconds as he shakes it off. “It does kind of make sense though. Myungho did tell me a while back that Hansol had a thing for him. And Kwan-ah did used to talk about him a lot.” 

Junhui perks up. “Ah, that’s sweet. Hansollie seemed to really like him.” 

Suddenly, Mingyu jolts, as if remembering something and turns to Junhui with a shy expression. “Ah! I hope you don’t mind, when I called you ‘hyung’ earlier. That might’ve been too forward. It sort of slipped out.”

Junhui quickly shakes his head. “Oh, no, it’s fine, I don’t mind,” he says, patting Mingyu’s arm for further reassurance. Truthfully, he didn’t really notice. He feels he’s been getting closer to Mingyu now so he would’ve allowed it regardless. “You know, we really didn’t have much of a chance to be friends before.” It’s a statement holding a few things; permission to drop formalities, a small regret that they’ve been in close contact with the same person at the same span of time and never got to meet, a hesitant invitation.

Luckily, Mingyu seems to recognize all of them and his face relaxes into a friendly grin. “Yeah, we didn’t. We should fix that.”

Junhui brightens, feeling a sense of relief washing over him. “Great! Let me know when you’re free. I can tell you all about Wonwoo’s embarrassing high school stories.” 

As Mingyu pulls his phone back out, Junhui wonders how much Mingyu knew about him, about his relationship with Minghao. Junhui wants to think it’s a little unfair as he knows almost nothing about Mingyu, and what he thought he _did_ know about him seemed to be proven wrong. But at least he’s getting a chance to correct that now. 

He wants to ask Mingyu a lot of things, like what kinds of things he cooks after hearing about it from Minghao, why Mingyu took up this filming and editing hobby, if he’s thinking of shifting from modelling also, how summoning Seungkwan works. 

Junhui feels something blossoming in his chest, it’s warm and fuzzy and somewhat resembles hope. It isn’t exactly the hope he was searching for but it’s just as good. 

+++

By the time Minghao gets home, he grabs a light dinner of leftovers from his fridge. While he’s washing his dishes to lay on the rack, his phone chirps from the counter.

Whatever Jisoo wanted Wonwoo to send him is here, the email Wonwoo sent displaying the heading ‘ _At Shua-hyung’s request’_ which seemed pretty straightforward. 

_‘Hi Myungho :] Shua-hyung gave me your email address and asked me to send this to you. It’s some of Junnie’s Jinhua press interviews he did. I did make the cuts Shua-hyung asked for but let me know if you want the full versions. Hope it helps. Jeon Wonwoo ♡’_

Minghao always liked Wonwoo. Attached is a three minute video file called _‘Jun - Jinhua_A.mp4’_ which also seemed… somewhat straightforward for Wonwoo. 

After he downloads the attachment and taps play, his screen fills with Junhui at one of the press interviews, the poster for his historical drama hanging behind him. Minghao should have guessed from the message Wonwoo left but it isn’t the interview in its entirety; they’re short segments compiled, each lasting a few seconds before it shifts to another shot of Junhui at another interview. Even before he’s even spoken or his sentence fully ends.

After the third segment finishes and the fourth one starts, Minghao starts to see the pattern, why Jisoo would want him to see this. Wonwoo’s put together each time in an interview Junhui touched his left earlobe. Wonwoo always left enough seconds in the beginning to see the familiar silver triangle dangling there before Junhui fidgeted with it. 

Junhui still had it. He still wore it in Jinhua, during interviews when he obviously couldn’t wear it during filming. Maybe he’d hoped Minghao would notice and see the earring was still there, that he still valued it. Maybe he didn’t think about that at all and Junhui just kept it on as his own symbol of reassurance somehow. Junhui was adorably sentimental like that. It’s enough to knock at Minghao’s heart, make it flutter around in hope again, filling up and threatening to burst out.

From the interviews he watched on his own, Minghao isn’t sure if he’d be able to tell it was something Junhui was doing if it wasn't put together like this. He tries to listen to what Junhui’s saying when he starts fidgeting with it, hoping Wonwoo left the audio in. For most of them, Junhui is droning out a filler noise in his sentence that his hand goes to his ear. For others, it’s in the middle of a sentence as Junhui says things like _‘this movie’, ‘I was going for’, and ‘with this’_ that don’t mean much to Minghao. 

There isn’t enough of a pattern for Minghao to definitely point to that says about why Junhui did it, despite the compilation going on for longer than he expected. If anything, it seemed like something Junhui happened to do absent-mindedly, when he wasn’t really thinking. 

And the way Wonwoo has spliced them doesn’t leave in the interviewer’s question until the last segment. _“[What made you come back to acting?]”_

Junhui sucks a breath in through his teeth, head tilting as his hand goes to his earlobe. _“[Ah, an old friend recommended I take it up again, so I tried it and I enjoyed it. I’m…very grateful to them,]”_ he says, nodding despite how nervous he sounds.

Minghao’s heart swells in his chest. While he didn’t expect Junhui to refer to him poorly in an interview —let alone refer to him at all— hearing Junhui call him an ‘old friend’ still pulls at his heart. He thinks his heart has already been stretched, rolled out and flattened by this point after everything he’s experienced with Junhui. 

Minghao watches the compilation a few more times until it’s etched into his heart, takes his time with it before he replies to Wonwoo’s email. _‘Hi :] You work fast, Wonwoo-hyung. I’d like for you to send me the full versions whenever you have the chance. Thanks ♡ Myungho’_

He also sends a text to Jisoo. _‘Ok ok I saw it. Can you meet me tomorrow?’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> see you next time~! ♡  
> [twitter ](https://twitter.com/paishhao) | [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.qa/paishhao)


	17. You are my dream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WE'RE HERE~  
> [Mandarin]  
> Name translations: Wonwoo - Yuanyu; Seungcheol - Shengche; Myungsoo - Mingzhu
> 
> Chapter title is from Dream from the Eternal Monarch OST (I mean obv we support Jun's version but the line isn't exclusive to his... anyway)

If Wonwoo is anything, Minghao learns, he is fast and organized. 

Wonwoo had sent over the full versions of the interviews he’d cut up for him, neatly packaged in a folder on a share drive he sent Minghao access to. The files were labelled by numerical date in brackets followed by the station of the interview and then the project Junhui was promoting at the time. 

Based on the thumbnail previews, Minghao is able to place which interview to which clip. Watching the entire thing, however, will have to wait for another time since he’d asked for them pretty late in the evening and he decides he can’t stay up just to watch them. He still also has to meet with Jisoo for that final bit of clarity.

A new problem arises when Minghao realizes he has no idea how to predict Jisoo. After watching the file Jisoo had Wonwoo send him, Minghao asked to meet Jisoo again since he intended on making good on the offer if he had any other questions. 

While Jisoo explained the time away in Jinhua, the bracelet and even showed Minghao tangible evidence that the fondness he thought he imagined Junhui still having for him wasn’t fabricated, Minghao still hasn’t gotten an answer for his main question. And Jisoo isn’t helping.

 _‘I thought I told you to come find ME ☆～（ゝ。∂）’_ was his reply to Minghao’s text asking to meet him today. 

If Minghao’s being honest, he doesn’t trust that winking emoticon one fucking bit. It feels like Jisoo knows too much; Jisoo always knows way too much and is simply dangling it over his head. 

Minghao doesn’t have time to decipher his message as he heads to his studio to check his emails for the day. He has one shoot scheduled to do this morning and he sends a quick message to Jeonghan. 

_‘How do I locate Shua-hyung?’_

_‘Why are you asking me that?’_

_‘Because I’m trying to locate Shua-hyung? If he’s not at Jun-hyung’s schedules, he’s usually at your desk with you.’_

Jeonghan takes a few more seconds to reply. _‘If you know that, then why are you asking?’_

_‘He’s at your desk?’_

Jeonghan’s message bubble dances with ellipses for a few seconds. _‘He told me to tell you no he is not at my desk.’_

_‘I’m going to your desk.’_

_‘Don’t you have a shoot to do to submit to me later?’_

Minghao concedes his point, locking his computer screen, and decides that finding Jisoo will have to wait until later. As he’s gathering his equipment from the back cabinet, Hansol enters the room and calls a small greeting to him. 

“Hi, Hansol-ah,” Minghao says in a rush, adjusting the lens on the camera as he passes him. “I have a shoot to run to right now but it’s good to see you.”

“Oh,” Hansol replies with a blank stare and slightly flustered series of blinks as he settles in at his desk. “Good to see you too, hyung. Have a good shoot.”

Minghao is almost out the door when he pauses and looks at Hansol. “Tell me if Shua-hyung happens to drop by, will you?”

Hansol takes another few blinks before he starts nodding. “Sure, hyung.”

“Thanks.” Minghao offers a smile, grateful that Hansol knows when not to ask additional questions. He watches for a few seconds as Hansol waits for his computer to boot up before he walks up to Hansol’s chair, holds Hansol’s head still again and ruffles his hair. 

This obviously leaves Hansol confused. “Hyung?”

Minghao shakes his head, backing away towards the door. “Nothing, just… keep doing good work, Hansol-ah.”

To say Hansol seems stunned would be an understatement as he slowly cranes his head up towards him. “Sure, of course.” He looks tempted to ask further questions but decides against it and his focus goes to his computer screen finally lighting up, fixing his now misaligned strands. 

Minghao takes the chance to leave to go to his schedule with a group of models for ads that Jeonghan plans to sell back to a magazine. The hour goes well and the models are easy enough to manage and direct. Although his mind is elsewhere, Minghao hopes he doesn’t come off too cold or stressed since he’s pretty sure he’s seen some of them talking with Junhui before. 

After the shoot, as Minghao is making his way towards the elevators, he checks his phone and sees Jisoo’s reply. _‘Stop asking Jeonghan where I am…’_

He’s about to reply that he only asked Jeonghan once but bumps into someone apparently headed to the same elevator. 

“Ah, Myungho!” 

“Seokmin?” Minghao looks up and blinks at the familiar face. “What are you up to?”

Seokmin lets out a long exaggerated sigh. “We’re on break from practice right now. I ran out to grab a snack.”

As he shifts his gaze lower, Minghao notices the bottles of milk and tea cradled in his arms, along with bags of honey chips. “Don't you guys have managers for that sort of stuff?”

Seokmin shrugs. “Yeah, but I wanted to stretch my legs on my own and before I knew it, the sunbaes were calling out drink requests from the vending machine.”

Minghao can believe that. He can also believe that Seokmin would be too kind-hearted to turn any of them down, wondering if Seokmin’s seniors were the type to take advantage of this. “Wait. Seokmin-ah, is one of your sunbaes named Woohyunnie-hyung?”

The elevator dings as Seokmin blinks, eyes widening in confusion. “Nam-sunbae? Yeah, what about him?”

Minghao tightens his lips in his mouth, taking a deep breath before he asks, “Is he typically good at delivering messages?”

To Minghao’s abject horror, Seokmin backs into the elevator, laughing almost exaggeratedly. “Sunbae is pretty forgetful, really. Like outside of work. Kind of ditzy, you know?” 

“You don’t say,” Minghao finds himself muttering as he enters the elevator with him. Why would Myungsoo pick _Woohyun,_ out of all people, to deliver his message? As the elevator doors close, he decides that it doesn’t matter anymore anyway, it’s already done.

Minghao sees Seokmin off at the basement, realizing that he should’ve gotten on another elevator since he was heading upstairs to the seventeenth floor. 

To no one’s surprise, Jisoo is not at Jeonghan’s desk, and Jeonghan looks annoyed at Minghao for even trying. 

“Do you have the shots you’re supposed to submit to me?” he pointedly asks, actually bothering to stop moving and glance up at him.

Feeling particularly petty, Minghao brandishes the camera in his hands, turning it on its side to show Jeonghan the panel hiding the SD card. 

Jeonghan flickers his gaze between the two, eyes decidedly unamused and lips curling into a tired smirk. “Cute.” He types for a bit, briefly pausing. “Did you find Shua yet?”

Minghao lowers the camera. “No.” He realizes he sounds like a petulantly pitiful defeated child but him being able to confront Junhui depends on finding Jisoo so he doesn’t really care.

“Hm.” The way Jeonghan goes back to typing and refocuses his direction to the screen tells Minghao he’s decided this conversation is over and Minghao has no arguments. He’s not about to beg Jeonghan for help, although he is tempted to ask him to explain Jisoo’s text of why he is under the impression that Minghao has been pestering Jeonghan for help. 

Although at this point, it would feel weird between them so he doesn’t say anything. 

As he makes his way back to the elevators, Jeonghan suddenly calls to him. “If you get those pictures to me by lunch, I’ll see what I can do.”

Minghao turns back, looking at Jeonghan’s suddenly frozen form. Admittedly, he’s curious on why Jeonghan would be offering this to him, what he means. But he’s learned not to look too close into things with Jeonghan, just accept them as they are. “Sure, hyung.”

His elevator arrives, giving him a quick, easy escape, and he heads back to his studio room. Hansol isn’t in by the time he gets there, presumably on his own shoot. He lets himself fall back into a rhythm, of pulling out his card reader, loading the SD card and getting started on his editing process. It’s easy for him to turn his brain off and get absorbed looking at his work, fixing anything he was unhappy with. 

He doesn’t notice when Hansol returns but the boy is at his desk by the time Minghao finishes editing and pushes away from his desk to stretch his legs.

+++

Somehow, Jisoo must take pity on him because after lunch, he sends a text that says _‘Meet me in the lobby.’_

When Minghao gets to said lobby, he finds Jisoo sitting in one of the waiting chairs against the wall, one leg neatly crossed over the other as he leans forward over it, scrolling through his phone. 

Relieved, Minghao silently takes the seat next to him with a long sigh. 

“You know, you could’ve made this easier on yourself,” Jisoo says with a light lilt in his voice, not looking away from his phone. “If you know I have to be at Junnie’s schedules, you could’ve just asked Junnie where he was.” He clicks his phone off, pocketing it as he leans back. 

Minghao frowns, looking down at his hands in his lap, playing with the end of his shirt. “I… I couldn’t,” he admits, gnawing at his bottom lip. “I know that’s what you wanted me to do but I couldn’t talk to Jun-hyung. Not yet.”

“Hm? Why?” Jisoo asks, looking over at him. “You said you saw the interview clips. After that and what I’ve told you, what other questions could you possibly have for me? He isn’t dating right now.” He pauses before adding, “Trust me, I would know. It’s my job to know.”

Minghao’s nails press into the pads of his thumbs. He wishes Jisoo would’ve told him that weeks ago. It would’ve saved him so much trouble with Hansol. 

“Myungho?”

Minghao frowns. “Jun-hyung said it was too late for us,” he says, chest aching as the words leave his mouth. “Why would he say that unless he wasn’t interested anymore?”

Jisoo stares, quirking his head in confusion and leaning closer. “Too late for you? As in…?”

Minghao bites his lip. “When we had that meeting the other week, I told him everything about our breakup and he said he was sorry he found out too late.” He takes a few seconds, eyes studying Jisoo's face. A thought suddenly occurs to him, wondering if Jisoo was aware of the details of the breakup, if Junhui told him after their meeting. Or if just seeing Junhui in the aftermath of it was enough to tell Jisoo everything he needed to know, like Jeonghan with Minghao?

Jisoo snorts a soft chuckle through his nose. “Well, you don’t exactly give off the biggest I-still-want-you signals.” He shrugs. “He used to tell me how he was convinced that you fell out of love with him ages ago, so he probably _does_ think it’s too late. Do you know how hard you are to read now?”

Minghao pouts, eyes shifting around and unable to think of a good answer. Not for a lack of trying, though. 

Jisoo dips his chin. “And what about your other boyfriend? Didn’t you go on a date before?”

“Huh?”

Jisoo nods. “Yeah, like a few days before Halloween? That was him, right?”

Minghao thinks he can feel the color draining from his face, heart straining against his chest. “How do you know about that?” He was pretty sure he didn’t tell anyone about that, not even Mingyu.

“Junnie told me,” Jisoo supplies, sighing. “He said he heard you arranging the date and then they texted you after asking to pick you up for your next one since they’ve already been to your place or something?”

“Shit.” Minghao is sure his heart starts panicking. Junhui _did_ see his texts that day. And he told Jisoo about them. “That was weeks ago, we weren’t serious, there was nothing there. You— you _heard_ me break it off with him!”

“Does Junnie know that?” Jisoo challenges with a small shrug. “Because _I_ have no reason to tell him.” 

Minghao feels himself pout again, which only increases Jisoo’s laughter. 

“Okay, so are you still in love with Junnie?” 

“That’s—!” Minghao is about to object but is stopped by Jisoo’s dry stare. 

“Yes or no, Myungho,” he warns, voice sharp and dripping with just how tired he is.

Minghao gulps and gives a firm nod. “Yeah, I am.”

“And do you want to be with him again?”

Minghao gives another nod. “Of course.” 

“And you’re both currently unattached and available?”

Minghao tightens his lips in his mouth as he recalls Junhui’s warnings about Jisoo’s habits of dragging people to his point before beating them with it. He would laugh if Jisoo wasn’t doing it so painfully to him now. “Yes, we are.”

Jisoo’s smirk is way too cocky as he folds his arms over himself. “Then what’s the problem? If you have a chance, why are you talking to me instead of him?”

“Because that’s just it. It’s just a chance. Just one,” Minghao says, worries unravelling themselves from deep within his chest. It's impossible for him to forget the look on Junhui's face from outside the restaurant that night. It's imprinted itself into his brain, how desperately hurt and distraught and broken and vulnerable Junhui was, how it was all Minghao's fault. “What if I mess up again?”

For a fraction of a second, Jisoo’s smirk falls off. It gets replaced with a softer smile, like he still knows something but is far more comforting and supportive about it. “Well, you can’t really find out until you talk to him.” He covers one of Minghao’s hands with his own. “Whatever you’re thinking, stop. You’re letting your head run wild but something else has probably been screaming at you, right? Listen to that instead.” 

Minghao knows he’s right, he’s been letting his head take over ever since he heard Junhui come back, barely letting himself do anything, telling himself it’s what had to happen. Meanwhile, his heart has been forced to the side, made to be ignored. The stubborn bastard still seems to only know the same one word, echoing it over and over again. The only word it’s known since Junhui appeared outside Seungcheol’s office. He takes another deep breath.

Jisoo’s eyes seem to follow the movement, letting go of Minghao’s hand. “So you’ll talk to him? Like _actually_ talk to him?”

“Yeah,” Minghao says, a little breathless at his heart rattling in his chest. 

“Wonderful! Follow me,” Jisoo says, hopping off his seat and starting to walk away. After a few seconds, he looks to check if Minghao is following. “I know his schedule, remember?” 

“Right.” Minghao nods, letting Jisoo lead him to the elevator.

While in the elevator, they stand side by side, Jisoo making a show of looking up at the indicators above the door. “Ah, we’re finally going to resolve this,” he says with a dramatic sigh, turning his head towards Minghao. “I have a lot riding on this, you know.”

Minghao raises a brow. “As part of your duty as Jun-hyung’s manager?”

Jisoo scoffs, smiling. “No, I have a bet with Jeonghan.” He turns back to face the doors, beaming when it dings and the doors slide open. “I mean, _obviously_ I care about you both too and you frustrate me greatly with your stoic noble thing. But not only will I win a couple thousand won, I will get the satisfaction of being right over Jeonghan. Again,” he hurriedly corrects, tugging Minghao’s wrist out of the elevator. 

“Hyung.”

“And you’ll both be back together and happy again so we'll all win,” Jisoo adds, beaming. 

+++

Minghao doesn’t know what feeling he’s getting as Jisoo leads him through the familiar path to the studio set of the acting department. It’s oddly nostalgic in a way. Minghao doesn’t have much reason to be here regularly, since most of his assignments aren’t on the acting set. The only times he’s really been here were for Junhui, just like now, he supposes.

As Jisoo’s walking him through the expanse of the room, passing by various racks of props and staff members, there’s Junhui sitting in one of the set chairs, reading over a script in his lap, chin resting on his fist with his elbow sitting on the armrest. 

He’s a little dressed up today, fitted white dress shirt with black slacks. His hair is slightly gelled, styled off to the side with light makeup. He looks really good, Minghao thinks, the sentiment somehow familiar, reminiscent of an earlier time. 

Junhui looks up as he sees them approaching. “Ah, Shua-hyung, there you are! You were gone for a while, did you bring me some snacks?” he asks excitedly.

“Hm, something like that,” Jisoo replies coyly with a small shrug, moving past Junhui’s chair like he was floating.

Junhui’s head follows Jisoo’s movement, turning to Minghao, who stops in front of Junhui’s chair when Jisoo goes behind him. “Oh, hey, Hao. What are you doing here?” he asks with an innocent tilt of the head. “I didn’t think you had work in this department.”

“I uh.” Minghao looks toward Jisoo for assistance of some kind, but he keeps walking until he’s a good distance away from them. Near the wall like he used to do, bringing back another familiar feeling. 

Minghao looks around. He spots Myungsoo guiding a junior actor in a way he thinks he’s seen Siwon doing before. His brain tries to come up with an excuse about being here to talk to Myungsoo, too used to thinking up excuses to avoid his feelings. It’s hard when said feelings are chanting out _I love you, I miss you, I love you, please tell me you might love me too_ throughout his heart.

Minghao doesn’t know why Jisoo just threw him in here like this. Jisoo is wrong, he's not ready. He needs more time to sort his thoughts out from what he wants to actually say to Junhui. It becomes far too serious of a worry that if his lips open too wide, he'll blurt out way more than Junhui is ready to hear and scare him. “I’m here to see you.”

Junhui’s head tilts to the other side slowly, eyes still watching and looking for answers to questions he hasn’t asked yet. “Hm? But my rehearsal schedule hadn’t started yet. I was going to message you. Oh!” He perks up, posture correcting as he folds the pages of the script shut on his finger. “Do you need to do behind-the-scenes shots for something?”

Minghao blinks. He doesn’t even have a camera with him, why would Junhui think that?

_Because that’s your job, idiot._

“I’m not really sure what you could take, though. It’s just me reading a script right now, it's not that exciting,” Junhui eagerly continues, attentively watching him. 

Minghao looks over at Jisoo for guidance again but he’s still standing far off next to the wall, seemingly focused on his phone and trying very hard to make it look like he’s not watching them. He shakes his head. “No, that’s not why I’m here. I wanted to talk to you, if you’re not too busy.”

Junhui adjusts in his seat, leaning forward towards him. “Sure, what is it?”

Minghao blinks, brain freezing on what words to output. He can’t believe he’s back to acting like a stunned teenager trying to talk to his crush. “Well I was—” 

“Jun-ah! You ready to go through your scene?” Myungsoo asks, coming over with a wide grin. He somehow brightens further when he notices Minghao there. “Oh, Eisa, you’re here too! You here to watch?” He throws his hand around Minghao, clapping a hand on his shoulder.

“I uh.” He looks towards Junhui, who still is just watching with wide inquisitive eyes. 

“Really?” Junhui suddenly asks, looking at Myungsoo. “He can stay and watch?”

Myungsoo shrugs nonchalantly. “Sure, as long as you don’t mind. I don’t think the other actors would mind, it’s just a rehearsal.” He pats Minghao’s shoulder again. “Besides, you’ve done this before, you know how to keep quiet. Don’t you, Eisa?” he asks with a friendly laugh. 

Minghao chuckles nervously. “Uh, yeah, I do.” From the corner of his eye, he can see Jisoo’s eyes closing in resignation, hand coming up to cover them. 

Content, Myungsoo walks off, headed back towards the set where a group of actors are huddled amongst themselves, chatting.

Junhui pushes his hands on the armrests and eagerly hops out of his seat. When he glances at Minghao, he smiles, wide and bright and beautiful. “Hao, you can use my seat,” he says, gesturing towards it as he steps aside. 

Minghao glances up at Jisoo, who is urgently mouthing _‘What are you doing’_ at him, face clearly disgusted. Minghao redirects his attention back to Junhui. 

“Thanks, hyung,” he murmurs, making himself comfortable in Junhui’s chair. Jisoo is now far at his back so he doesn’t have to worry about his dramatic silent messages. But he does feel the heat of Jisoo’s stare boring into the back of his head.

Junhui is now looking down at him, smile still gracing his lips. “Uh, I’d really like your feedback later. On the scene we do,” he says, glancing around. “During the break, I mean. If you don’t mind.” 

Minghao isn’t able to stop his heart from hammering away in his chest. “Yeah. Sure, no problem.” 

With a small bow of the head, Junhui jogs off to join the rest of the actors and Minghao’s eyes never leave him. 

“What was that?” Jisoo asks, strolling up beside his chair. “I basically handed him to you and you didn’t take it.”

Minghao whips his head towards him. “Myungsoo-hyung came by, I panicked,” he admits, feeling rather pitiful. “I just… I need more time, it’s not that easy.”

Jisoo offers an unsympathetic shrug. “What’s not easy about confessing your undying love for each other? It happens all the time.” 

Minghao’s attention whips back to Junhui, watching him talking a bit with some of the other actors.

“Not what I meant,” Jisoo says with a small sigh. “But I _will_ start asking some of the other actors to start declaring their undying love for Junnie if it makes you move faster.”

Minghao frowns. “Some of the other actors have feelings for Jun-hyung?”

Jisoo shrugs. “They’re _actors,_ Myungho,” he droles out with a barely-contained eye roll. “And besides, you’ve seen how easy it is for people to fall for Junnie.”

“You’re trying to scare me.”

Jisoo tilts his head, the corner of his lips poking up in another knowing smirk. “Is it working?”

Minghao turns his head back to the set, refusing to allow Jisoo the satisfaction of an answer although he’s sure Jisoo can figure it out anyway. 

As Junhui and the other actors start reciting their lines at each other, Minghao notices how much more comfortable Junhui moves and carries himself. It’s evident how the years have let him confidently grow, he truly didn’t need Minghao to talk him through his anxiousness anymore. It’s far more evident than when he helped Junhui in the studio weeks ago, especially as Junhui plays out the same scene he’d asked Minghao to help him go through before. 

Minghao gets the same sense of warmth pooling in his chest, the pride in being able to see that Junhui, the boy he loved, the man he grew to love again, is getting everything he dreamed of. The fascination Junhui had with performing and acting is still there, it still owns so much of Junhui's heart and he carries it well. When he sees Junhui like this, Minghao still can't bring himself to take back his decision from years ago. Not when it's given Junhui so many things he's wanted and worked for. 

“You were great!” Minghao exclaims when Junhui approaches him during the break. “You were so good, hyung!” While he’s not exactly articulate right now, he hopes Junhui can somehow understand just how impressed he is, ignoring Jisoo’s obvious attempts to stifle a giggle. 

Like Minghao has come to expect, Junhui’s cool, detached façade vanishes once the job is done, leaving him a giddy, giggling sort of mess. “Really?” 

Minghao gives a confident nod, managing a bright smile. “Yeah, you were amazing! Even better than when we practiced.”

Junhui covers his face with his hands in a familiar sight, removing one briefly to shove Minghao’s shoulder.

“ _Oh,_ you practiced together?” Jisoo asks, sounding less than surprised but trying very hard to act like he is. When Minghao tries to shoot him a glare, Jisoo actually mouths back _‘What’_ at him, like he had never done anything wrong in his life.

 _‘Shut the fuck up,’_ Minghao mouths back.

 _‘I’m helping you,’_ is Jisoo’s flippant response.

Junhui either does not notice or does not feel the need to draw attention to it. “Yeah, I tried following the notes you gave me from then,” he says, sounding more nervous than Minghao thinks he needs to be. “Myungsoo-sunbae said the scene was going well and we might go with that direction.”

Minghao finds himself smiling, watching how excited Junhui was. “That’s great, hyung.”

Junhui fidgets a little with his fingers. “Just let me ask Myungsoo-sunbae about something, I’ll be right back,” he says, dashing off.

Jisoo lets out an exaggerated sigh, circling Minghao’s chair like an overeager shark. “You are so hopeless. Jeonghan warned me but I did not think you would be _this_ bad.” He chuckles, stopping beside the chair. “How did you even get together in the first place?”

Minghao sighs into his hands. “Jun-hyung told me to ask him out.”

Jisoo’s shoulders shake in a quick snort of a laugh. “Well, don’t expect him to do that now.” He sighs, turning so he’s facing Minghao. “So Myungho, tell me about your date,” he suddenly says, leaning a hand on the armrest of Minghao’s chair. “The one with your other boyfriend the other week.” 

“What? What other boyfriend?” Minghao frowns at Jisoo in confusion. “I told you, I’m not dating anyone.” Jisoo _saw_ him turn down the date from Yixing, he doesn’t know why he keeps bringing him up. As he’s about to ask and point out that Jisoo already knows this, Jisoo’s eyes urgently signal over to a mostly-stunned Junhui walking up beside him, watching them. 

_Oh._

“You’re not?” Junhui asks in a small inquisitive voice. 

From his peripheral, Minghao can see Jisoo exaggeratedly mouthing _‘I told you!’_ at him. He does his best to ignore him. “Nope, I’m not dating anyone,” Minghao repeats more firmly, holding his gaze steady. He doesn’t care how he sounds, he needs Junhui to know. “I’m very free and unattached.” 

“Oh.” Junhui looks down and to the side, his expression oddly reminiscent of right before he gave Minghao that small black bracelet box, eyes flickering with a sort of guarded hesitancy. “I see.”

Minghao glances at Jisoo to check if he knows what this means. The manager’s face is just as lost and he shakes his head with widened eyes. Minghao leans forward, reaching a hand out. “[Junhui—]” 

Junhui pulls out his phone, tapping the tip against his chin. “I have to do something,” he says as he whirls around, turning away from them. Minghao sees his head tilt down as Junhui seems to type away at his phone. 

Minghao, once again, glances at Jisoo for some sort of signal to explain Junhui’s actions. And once again, Jisoo can offer nothing aside from a confused head shake and a raised brow. 

Foolishly, or hopefully, Minghao checks his phone to see if he’s received anything from Junhui. His heart is carrying some kind of fleeting hope, that maybe Junhui is just too shy to say whatever it is in front of Jisoo, that Junhui wants to send him a secret message somehow. He’s slightly dismayed when he sees his yellow painting lockscreen annoyingly devoid of any notifications. Whoever Junhui’s texting, it’s not him.

Once Junhui’s done typing, he pockets his phone and lets out a breath, turning back around. He tucks his hands behind his back again, pushing on his toes a little. “Are you going to stay until the end of rehearsal?” he asks, sounding slightly unsure.

Minghao can only imagine he’s talking to him because Jisoo is contractually obligated to wait for Junhui regardless. “Yeah, I can,” he says, slightly breathless. “If you want.” 

Junhui starts nodding to himself. “Okay.” He almost sounds like he’s talking to himself. “Okay, good.” He fidgets a little with his hands. “That’s good, I want— I hope you can stay.”

Minghao doesn’t need to look to know how intensely Jisoo is watching them right now, likely with that all-knowing smirk. He can feel it too heavily in the air. “Then I’ll stay.”

He thinks Junhui’s eyes sparkle a little as his lips poke up in a smile. Soon after, he heads back off to where Myungsoo and the other actors are talking and gesturing about the set. 

Minghao’s phone finally chimes with a message notification. But it isn’t from who he was anticipating. 

_‘Hey Myungho :] Junnie said to go ahead and send these to you. I didn’t get a chance to put subtitles so make sure you have headphones. Wonwoo ♡’_ In his next line is a link that leads Minghao to a cloud drive folder labeled _‘Junnie Recording Project.’_

Minghao is a bit limited on his phone with navigating the files in the drive, but he takes out his earphones at Wonwoo’s suggestion, guessing it’s not like the last files. There are about eleven small video files in the folder, varying in duration but the longest seems to be about forty-seven seconds. He glances up at Junhui nodding enthusiastically at Myungsoo giving him (along with an actress that Minghao has never seen before) notes. The files shouldn’t take more than eleven minutes to go through. Minghao is sure he can finish by the time Junhui’s done with rehearsal.

Maybe that’s what Junhui meant. He wanted Minghao to watch whatever these are and give him his feedback when his rehearsal’s done. From the folder title, Minghao wants to guess they’re practice pieces Junhui recorded for auditions or something along those lines. He did say he trusted Minghao’s opinion with those, after all. But the way Junhui whirled around after Minghao declared he wasn’t dating —the contemplative look on his face— tells Minghao that it has to be more than that.

They’re labeled by date, conveniently enough, but Minghao wouldn’t expect less from Wonwoo. He feels tempted to start with the latest one, from his birthday almost two weeks ago but Minghao gathers he’s meant to watch them in chronological order.

The first date is one Minghao hauntingly recognizes. It’s the date Hansol came to him on set and said the words, _“Myungho-hyung! Did you hear that Moon Junhwi is back?”_ and sent Minghao’s world into a spiral. With a drop in his stomach, he taps on it first and waits for the video to load.

He should’ve been able to guess from the thumbnail but the video is shot in portrait mode of a phone, almost completely dark with only a small lamp in the corner to give Minghao a sense of the figure’s shadow. Luckily, it’s the shortest one because Minghao doesn’t know what he’s supposed to be looking at and doesn’t want to have to figure it out for long. 

Then he hears Junhui’s voice, _“I saw him today. He was outside Seungcheollie-hyung’s office.”_ He sounds tired. _“It was weird, I wasn’t expecting to see him but I was sort of hoping I would, you know? I hadn’t really forgotten what he looked like but… all the pictures and memories in my head don’t do him justice.”_ He pauses for a few seconds, the shadow shifting. _“His eyes are still really pretty in person. I wonder if they still light up and sparkle like before.”_ He sounds wistful and the video lasts a few more seconds on this still shot before it ends. 

Minghao’s chest feels heavy as he breathes out, glancing up at Junhui getting ready to start the scene. He doesn’t know if he’s expecting Junhui to know what he just saw, but he still feels like he wants a reaction anyway. He also doesn’t know how he’s supposed to do this ten more times when the first one is already throwing him off balance like this.

The second clip is a bit weirder, the date a few days later. It’s shot towards a ceiling, off-white with smears of where the paint likely didn’t evenly dry. _“Myungho asked me why I came back,”_ Junhui’s voice sighs, annoyed. _“Figures. He really didn’t expect to see me again. He really expected me to go away forever, huh. That's probably what he was hoping.”_ His voice still has the bitter vindication that Minghao remembers from the elevator that day. _“Oh well. I guess that’s too bad for him. He’ll just have to deal with it.”_

 _“I thought you said you were civil,”_ Wonwoo’s voice suddenly chimes in from somewhere on the left. 

_“I thought you knew I was lying,”_ Junhui’s voice retorts like a bratty child and the clip almost immediately ends. Minghao would have laughed if the hurt he inflicted on Junhui wasn’t so heavily apparent there. Junhui wasn't as indifferent to him back then as Minghao thought. 

When he glances up again, Junhui is in the middle of the scene, wandering around the set giving a small blurb of his lines towards the actress and the other three actors in her vicinity. He hates how unaffected the rest of the world is while his is getting tossed around right in front of him. Before he lets himself think too much about it again, Minghao taps the third file. 

This time, he’s greeted by a shot of sweatpant-covered legs swinging as they dangle off the edge of a sofa or a bed, Minghao can’t exactly tell. _“Myungho agreed to edit my pictures.”_ Junhui’s voice again, soft and lost. _“I don’t know how I could tell that it wasn’t him who edited them in the first place and I don’t know why he agreed but he did. I don’t know why it matters. Maybe it shouldn’t. He has to know what that means, why I asked. If he regrets everything, like I do, maybe…. I don’t, I don’t know what I’m thinking.”_

Wonwoo’s voice pipes in from the side again, still offscreen. _“If you asked him, do you think that would go well?”_

_“I don’t know. Shua-hyung says to be cautious of that. Do you think I should?”_

_“It’s better than wondering. Even if you don’t get the answer you want, maybe you can start to move on.”_

There’s silence for a few moments and the legs in frame stop swinging.

 _“Unless you don’t_ want _to move on from Myungho,”_ Wonwoo’s voice continues, a gentle prodding.

Junuhi sighs, the screen dramatically flinging backward until it’s staring at the ceiling again. _“I don’t know what I want.”_

 _“You want Myungho,”_ Wonwoo supplies, sounding somewhat sympathetically pitiful.

Junhui makes a wet-sounding scoff in his throat. _“You’re ruining my recording, Wonwoo-yah,”_ his voice rings bitterly before the clip abruptly ends.

Minghao’s going to punch himself. He doesn’t bother looking back up at Junhui rehearsing this time, but he glances at Jisoo, suddenly self-conscious of whether the manager is watching him or can read his thoughts. Worried that somehow Jisoo can see what he’s seeing, that he somehow knows.

He moves to the next clip, gulping when he sees the date of it. 

_“He ran out of a goddamn restaurant with Shua-hyung and Hansollie,”_ Junhui rants at the device, head-on, almost vlog-style. He’s about as furious as he remembers Junhui being that day. _“I knew he was stubborn sometimes, but_ this? _He said he doesn’t regret it and I’m not the only one that suffered? What the fuck is that supposed to mean? He left_ me, _he’s the one who wanted that. How can he say he doesn't regret us breaking up and still act like....”_ He finally stops, deflating as if he’s run out of steam and his voice calms down. _“Hansollie said he might know what it means and he’d be willing to tell me. He’s his assistant so I guess he’d have an idea of what Myungho’s been like this whole time but… I don’t know.”_ The clip clicks off with a despairing sigh before Minghao can figure out if Wonwoo was in the room that time.

He then thinks it might not even matter. At the mention of Hansol, Minghao starts realizing that they did start spending more time with each other after that lunch. He already knows he was wrong about them, but knowing it was for this and not because they had an interest in each other…. He taps on the next clip, labelled the day after.

This one is shot in landscape mode, finally. This time, it’s Junhui sitting on the edge of a bed. Even with the top half of his face cut off, Minghao can tell it’s him. _“Myungho listens to my OST sometimes. Hansollie told me,”_ the video Junhui says, a little ruefully, looking down at his hands in his lap. 

Wonwoo’s voice comes in again, this time from behind the camera. _“The one from your drama?”_

 _“Yeah. He played it back for me. Myungho was still supporting me all this time.”_ He continues fidgeting with his hands, sounding awed and hopeful. 

_Of course I would,_ Minghao wants to say to the digital image. He hates that Junhui would think he wouldn’t.

Wonwoo sounds encouraging when he asks, _“That’s good, isn’t it?”_ Minghao’s always liked Wonwoo.

Junhui finally looks up. _“I thought it would be. It makes it harder to be mad at him. He hurt me so much, Wonwoo, why did he have to go and still care about me like that?”_ Junhui’s voice cracks a little, faltering, and Minghao’s heart squeezes.

_“You just wanted reasons to be mad at him?”_

_“It made things easier.”_

_“Easier?”_

_“It was easier to be mad at him when I could think of him as someone who just threw me away because he didn’t care about me anymore. Like tell myself I was right to be angry because he was just horrible even though I know he wasn’t.”_ Junhui sighs, a sort of fragility flooding his voice. _“I don’t know, this feels stupid. I know it still doesn’t mean anything, him listening to my OST and watching my dramas, and it’s so frustrating because I want it to mean something.”_

When the clip ends a few seconds later, Minghao looks up from his phone at Junhui still rehearsing. He wants to toss his earphones aside and run over to him, tell him it means everything, Junhui isn’t crazy or stupid. But there are still five files left and Junhui still isn’t done with his scenes. Minghao takes a deep breath.

The next one is dated a few days before the joint shoot with Mingyu, the one Hansol was put in charge of instead. It’s shot in more of an interview style, with a higher quality camera and Junhui sitting on the edge of Wonwoo’s bed again, looking nervous but at least fully in-frame.

 _“I don’t know what I’m doing, Wonwoo,”_ Junhui admits, looking slightly off camera. Minghao’s heart breaks at how lost he sounds, even as he fidgets with his earlobe. _“He was the one who ended it and then sometimes he’ll make me hope just a little bit when I know it’s pointless. What the fuck does he mean he waited? I was supposed to be over him, why does he keep…? I don’t know what I’m thinking, it doesn’t make sense.”_

Ever the voice of reason that Minghao remembers, Wonwoo’s voice soothingly says, _“They’re feelings, Jun-ah, they’re not supposed to make sense. They’re just there,”_ from behind the camera and the clip soon ends. 

He hurriedly clicks the next one, marked with the day of the shoot. The day he and Junhui agreed to be friends. It’s shot in the same interview-style way, still pointed at Junhui sitting on his bed and Minghao guesses that Wonwoo got a tripod set up. That this had become enough of a routine that they needed it.

 _“I did it, Wonwoo,”_ Junhui’s voice rings in. He himself sits upright in his spot, proud and slightly eager.

_“Huh?”_

Junhui’s eyes flutter, looking down as he covers his hands with his sleeves, fidgeting about with them in his lap. _“When I talked to Myungho, after the shoot, I told him I missed him. I wasn’t able to look right at him when I did it because well, it was during a hug but… I still told him.”_

_“That’s great, Jun-ah. I’m proud of you.”_

_“He said he missed me too. I know it doesn’t mean much but—”_

_“It still means something, Junnie. Wait, is that why you’re crying? Shit. Do you want to stop the recording?”_

Junhui hides his face behind his sleeve-covered hands. _“Uh, yeah, please.”_

Minghao whips his head towards Jisoo, not sure what to do with the feelings swarming in his chest. He wants to yell at Jisoo, ask him why he didn’t tell him sooner despite knowing Jisoo has nothing to do with this. He just needs a place to dump his mess of emotions and Junhui is still in the middle of rehearsal.

The next clip is marked from right before the mid-autumn festival holiday. Minghao recognizes Junhui’s outfit in the thumbnail from when Junhui said he was going to that reserved dinner with Hansol. The day Minghao was sure he no longer had a chance.

 _“Hansollie asked out Seungkwan-ah,”_ Junhui starts, smiling towards Wonwoo behind the camera, but it doesn’t quite hit his eyes. He glances around a bit before continuing. _“It was really cute. I kind of got scared because they reminded me of me and Myungho for a bit and I don’t, I don’t know.”_ He flops his hands about in his lap again. _“There are so many things that can go wrong. There are so many things that_ went _wrong.”_

_“Junnie?”_

_“Do you think, do you think if I hadn’t left back then, we could’ve made it work? If I hadn’t pushed him or maybe if I’d waited before I tried to… I don’t know what I’m thinking.”_ The clip holds for a few more seconds on Junhui’s face before it suddenly ends.

Minghao lets out another deep breath. He’s been so stupid. For so long. He knows that. He should’ve reached out long ago, yesterday, last week, last month. Years ago. 

This feels like the longest eleven minutes of Minghao’s life.

The third-to-last clip is slightly different. It’s shot in portrait mode and propped up on a stand as Junhui sits at a table, alone.

 _“[Minghao, I’m sorry. Yuanyu probably won’t know what to do with this later. I’m recording this without him but I’m sorry,]”_ he says, brushing his hair back in frustration. He leans his arms on the table and sits his chin on it. _“[I’m so stupid, I should’ve asked you out sooner but I was just so…_ hurt _and angry and now it’s too late. I’m always getting the timing wrong. I shouldn’t have asked you to move in so soon, I shouldn’t have left. I should’ve tried to talk to you once I saw you outside Shengche’s office but I didn’t because I was just so stupid and mad and afraid and I kept telling myself I was over you and it was just so much easier to be mad than admit that I still loved you, even after what happened. You’re all I wanted. Fuck. It’s all my fault. I’m so sorry, Hao.]”_

The date is in the middle of October and Minghao tries to figure out what happened around then, anything that stands out that would make Junhui think like this. There was the mid-autumn festival, Chan telling him that Hansol had a boyfriend, his calling Yixing, his date with Yixing— 

His date with Yixing. Fuck.

He wants to run over to Junhui, hold him tight and tell him it’s not too late, it’s not his fault and he’s all Minghao wants too. But he’s still in the middle of his scenes. And there are two more clips left. Two clips are enough for Junhui to change his mind.

The second-to-last clip is marked November sixth, back to the interview-style setup in Wonwoo’s room. Instead of fidgeting with his sleeves in his lap, Junhui has the familiar black box, rotating it and smiling down at it, somewhat shy. _“Ah, it’s his birthday tomorrow. I had to ask his roommate just to make sure I remembered right. And to check if Myungho was doing anything after. But I just, I don’t know, this feels really embarrassing.”_

_“That you want to give Myungho something?”_

Junhui stops moving the box, clutching it as he looks up at where Minghao is presuming Wonwoo is offscreen. _“Yeah. What if he doesn’t like it?”_

 _“Jun-ah, it’s really sweet. If anything, I’m sure he’ll appreciate the thought. If he doesn’t, then he_ really _isn’t the Myungho either of us knew.”_

Junhui looks back down at the box, opening the box to stare inside. _“What if, what if he figures out that I still….”_

 _“Would that be so bad?”_ comes Wonwoo’s gentle-sounding voice.

Junhui snaps the box closed, a pensive look still on his face as he holds the box against his chest. _“He’s dating someone, I’m pretty sure. I don’t know, this whole thing feels stupid. I don’t want to make him uncomfortable. We’re just getting used to being friends. Maybe I should give him something else.”_

 _“But if you don’t do it now, when will you ever get the chance to give it to him again?”_

Junhui’s eyes flicker, as if realizing the truth in Wonwoo’s words, but still somewhat ashamed. _“Oh. Yeah, I guess.”_

Wonwoo sighs a little offscreen. _“Look, that day you have dinner with Kim Heechul-ssi anyway, right? So even if Myungho somehow horribly rejects you and your gift, you can at least go drink and cry with your industry dad and then come back here and we’ll go get ice cream.”_

Junhui sets the black bracelet box beside him on the bed, swiping his sleeve against it in some attempt to clean it. _“Okay. Ice cream sounds good. The good brand, right?”_ And the clip ends. 

Minghao pauses, looking down at his wrist, at the silver sunflower charm shining back at him. Somehow it carries another message, as if taunting him with guilt the more he learns about it. 

There’s still one clip left.

The last clip is labeled from November seventh and Minghao’s heart drops in his gut at the thumbnail. It’s one of the shorter ones, shot in portrait again, but this time it’s a silhouette of Junhui sitting on a sofa or a bed. His eyes are slightly red and Minghao can hear the inebriation when he starts talking, _“[Minghao, I… I know I yelled at Mingzhu and probably ruined your birthday. I’ll apologize to him later and hopefully you’ll forgive me but. Whatever happened back then, why you left me. You promised to tell me and… I can only hope it wasn’t completely terrible. I know I can trust you so. I look forward to whenever I see you. I hope we’ll be okay after.]”_ He offers a weak, unsure smile at the camera, eyes flickering down in what seems like regret before the clip ends.

The earbuds get ripped from Minghao’s ears, tossed to be forgotten behind on the seat, along with his phone, as Minghao bolts out of his chair. He thinks Jisoo might be calling his name but he ignores him in favor of making a beeline straight for Junhui and Myungsoo. 

They’re still in the middle of the scene, which Minghao wouldn’t guess would necessarily finish in eleven minutes. Myungsoo is monitoring Junhui and the other four actors going through their lines and blocking accordingly. He’s nodding his head when Minghao comes up beside him and taps Myungsoo’s arm. 

“I need to speak with Junhwi-hyung.”

Myungsoo’s head angles, brows raising in clear confusion. “What?”

His voice draws the attention of the actors in the scene, each of them pausing what they’re doing to stare at the two of them. 

Minghao doesn’t have to look to feel the weight of the five pairs of eyes on him but Junhui’s somehow burns the hottest into his skull. They’re the only ones that matter to him as he focuses on Myungsoo. “It’s really important. Hyungnim.”

The new head director frowns, looking pensive as his gaze constantly bounces between himself and a concerned-looking Junhui. It feels like time is stretching too long as Myungsoo makes his decision, each second almost as excruciating as the past eleven minutes Minghao just endured, another thing keeping him from Junhui. 

Somehow, Myungsoo must sense Minghao’s urgency because, after however many seconds, he finally relents, letting out a small sigh. His chin dips as he shakes his head with a fond sort of smile, briefly glancing back at Minghao before he addresses the group. “Okay, we’ll take a ten minute break here. Good work, everyone,” he says, clapping his hands. He spins on his heel and heads off without another word, without letting Minghao or anyone else say anything. 

The remaining actors curiously look between themselves before their questioning stares go to Minghao while they move past him. He doesn’t really care. His attention is solely focused back on Junhui, where it needs to be, where it’s always been. He’s busy sorting out his thoughts, trying to pick out the proper words he needs to say to Junhui as his co-actors disperse around them, trying to keep the words down before they’re needed.

Junhui’s eyes haven’t left him in the mix of people, swimming with a medley of hope and agony. His gaze leaves Minghao only briefly to check if they’re truly left alone and then tugs Minghao’s arm to bring him off to an empty spot of the set. “What are you doing?” he asks, tone firm, but unsure and likely embarrassed by the scene Minghao’s caused for him.

Minghao nods, blinking quickly. “Yes.”

“What?” Junhui’s frowning, concern adding into the pool of emotions dancing in his eyes.

Minghao shakes his head, vying to start over. All the words he thought he had prepared are failing him now, burned under the pressure of Junhui’s attention on him. “Jun-ah. [Junhui,] I…. I’m sorry. I haven’t been fair to you and I don’t have the right to ask for a second chance but I— I just, I saw everything and I think—” He pauses, his mind going embarrassingly blank as he scrambles for what he’s trying to say, fumbling for any words to string together, and tries not to look away. 

Junhui's eyes are still on him, still silently waiting in concern and confusion. When Minghao thinks of the last few minutes, why he's here, he reminds himself who he’s talking to, what this boy _means to him_ and stops thinking. 

“I love you. Jun-ah, I’m still in love with you. More than I was three years ago. It just, it doesn’t go away, it’s never going to go away. It just stays and builds in my chest and takes over my body. Like, it’s you, it’s just _you_ and it’s always going to be you, so—”

“You _think_ you love me?” Junhui’s voice cuts in softly, staring at him. His eyes are flickering with something as he nibbles at his bottom lip.

Minghao huffs a small exhale, running through what he just said until he realizes what Junhui’s doing. The laugh and _‘shut up’_ on his tongue that he would’ve said before fizzles away as he steps closer. His hands reach up, sliding over Junhui’s neck, up to frame his cheeks and almost completely closes the distance between them. “I’m sure. I love you. I know I do. I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

As much as he wants to, as much as his heart is pounding in his ear telling him to, Minghao doesn’t press forward the last few centimeters to kiss Junhui then. Instead he waits, breath lingering with Junhui’s, unable to look away from the pull of Junhui’s eyes. He wants Junhui to tell him it’s okay first, needs Junhui to let him know he can. Minghao’s waited for Junhui before, for months, years, even; waiting a few seconds now isn’t the worst thing. He can wait forever for Junhui. 

Thankfully, he doesn’t have to wait for that much longer. When he blinks, Junhui’s lips are sinking onto his own and his eyes slip closed. He had been waiting but Minghao still feels surprised at the sudden pressure, and it’s somehow everything he had been waiting for and nothing he expected. The press of their lips together doesn’t feel like anything new, it’s soft and addicting, but at the same time, not familiar at all. It feels more like they’re trying to reacquaint themselves to the feel of the other’s lips and Minghao lets himself melt into it, a small noise escaping him when Junhui gently rests a hand over one of Minghao’s. 

The way Junhui’s lips move against his is hypnotic, slowly and surely trying to drink Minghao in, trying to make up for the time they lost. Minghao greedily indulges. There’s also some tentativity, full of unspoken questions, a slight hesitancy in the way Junhui nips at his top lip before backing away, leans closer and pulls back slightly, a delicate push and pull of Junhui testing how far Minghao will let him go. And it’s everything that Minghao wants to assuage. He moves Junhui’s other hand onto his waist, who seems to get the message when the hand slowly slides and tenses over Minghao’s skin through the material of his shirt, movement just as shy as his mouth. Until he feels Junhui’s tongue pressing against the seam of his lips. 

Junhui pulls him closer, nipping at his bottom lip, spreading a warmth through Minghao’s veins, suffocating his senses. Junhui’s lips are soft, albeit hungry, and taste like those strawberry-flavored products that aren’t actually strawberry. Minghao vaguely hopes he’s not ruining any of Junhui’s stage makeup —although he knows they’re just doing a rehearsal— and the thought is enough to remind him where they are and make him reluctantly pull back.

He keeps his hands and gaze on Junhui still, as Junhui seems to be searching Minghao’s face for something, his breath coming out in pants fanning Minghao’s face. Minghao’s heart is still thrashing wildly in his chest and he does his best to ignore it as he waits for Junhui again. He wonders how much of their ten-minute break they’ve burned already, how long they have until everyone comes back.

Junhui’s mouth finally moves, “If you, if you change your mind again—”

“I won’t,” Minghao assures quickly, thumbs gently brushing Junhui’s cheeks, searching his eyes, imploring. “I won’t.” 

It’s not the answer Junhui’s looking for as he closes his eyes, shakes his head and firmly repeats, “If you change your mind again….” His eyes slowly refocus their attention to him.

Then Minghao sees it, because how could he not see it. It’s painted all over his face, laden in the way his hand grips Minghao’s; the fear, the worry, the absolute _dread_ that he won’t know what to do if Minghao decides to suddenly leave again, if Minghao shuts him out. It's everything Minghao has already seen from those eleven minutes burning into him now under Junhui’s gaze. 

“I’ll tell you,” he says firmly, resisting the urge to pepper more kisses on Junhui’s face in reassurance. He settles for caressing his fingers along Junhui’s skin. “I’ll tell you everything,” he promises. “Everything you want.” It’s more of a promise to himself than to Junhui, and he knows he has to resign himself to it because he doesn’t want to lose Junhui again. He can’t. 

Somehow, Junhui chuckles, one of his thumbs gently wiping away at just under Minghao’s eye. “Okay.” There’s a soft kiss pressed to Minghao’s nose and then Junhui’s one of arms wraps around his waist, his chin landing on Junhui’s shoulder. Junhui’s chest heaves in a long sigh. “Okay,” he says again, quieter, and a hand cradles the back of Minghao’s head. 

+++

Minghao waits for Junhui’s rehearsal to wrap up, ignoring the absolute shit-eating grin Jisoo’s pointing at him. He knows Jisoo isn’t going to ask or say anything about what he did, but he also gets the feeling that Jisoo already somehow knows regardless. And he wants Minghao to know that he knows. 

He sends a text to Mingyu, saying that he can talk to him now because he confessed to Junhui, to which Mingyu replies, _‘Pics or it didn’t happen.’_

Minghao sends back a selfie of him waiting on set while Junhui rehearses in the background.

 _‘That tells me nothing,’_ Mingyu sends back with an eye-rolling sticker. As Minghao is typing in his colorfully expletive reply, Mingyu follows up. _‘I’ll ask Jun-hyung about it later in case you’re lying~’_

_‘What the fuck.’ ‘WDYM Jun-hyung??’ ‘When did you start calling him that?’ ‘Excuse me???’ ‘Are you close now? When the fuck did that happen?’ ‘Why did you ask me to send a pic if you were just gonna ignore me?’_

Minghao gets no reply.

It’s a warm sort of feeling that is far too familiar, eagerly waiting for Junhui to finish up his acting sessions while Jisoo cheekily acts like he doesn’t know about their relationship despite likely knowing far too much. He doesn’t hate it. If anything, he enjoys the sense of happiness it fills him with. It feels like an evolved version of the affection he had before, like it’s built up and grown over time, layered and matured. He wonders what this feeling will transform into in the future, when another year or five or ten pass, how much more it will grow.

He’s pulled out of his thoughts when Junhui tugs on his wrist to bring him over to the four actors he was working with. Junhui gestures and gives a nervous, slightly choppy-sounding, “This is my… Myungho,” as a vague explanation for his interruption earlier and leaves it at that. 

Minghao is left to smile and affirm —totally not specifically towards the actress that Minghao is sure has been eyeing Junhui— that _yes, he is his Myungho,_ held back from going in further detail by Junhui tightening his grip around his wrist, likely sensing what Minghao is about to do. 

He also leaves it at that because they haven’t yet discussed what they are and what they’re going to do about themselves. Having that discussion is daunting enough without deciding it in front of an audience, let alone Junhui’s co-actor buddies that Minghao is just now learning the names of. (Minghao learns that the actress’ name is Yerin and he _will_ be keeping an eye on her.)

If it were up to him, though, he’d call himself Junhui’s boyfriend again because that’s what he knows he wants. 

And Myungsoo seems to agree as he pulls him aside while Junhui finishes chatting. He slings his arm around Minghao’s shoulders, laughing as he says, “Hey, uh, please don’t call me ‘hyungnim’ again. That felt really weird coming from you, Eisa, come on. I let you on set because we’re friends and you’re Junhwi’s boyfriend. I don’t need you calling me formally and making me seem scary in front of the juniors.”

Minghao gives a slightly embarrassed apology. He can’t tell if Myungsoo is calling him Junhui’s boyfriend because they didn’t bother correcting him at their dinner before or because he, too, is somehow aware of the confession he made to Junhui earlier. 

Regardless, he’ll settle on being Junhui’s Myungho for now, at least until they get to his apartment to properly discuss it. He doesn’t want to decide he’s Junhui’s boyfriend before Junhui says so. He tells Jisoo the address of his apartment, having to type it into his phone for him to GPS it because Jisoo isn’t as familiar with the streets as he used to be. 

He takes Junhui up to his apartment, at his building a few blocks away from Wonwoo’s and asks Junhui if he’s hungry. “We can make something,” Minghao offers. “Talk freely, however long we need.” In truth, he picks it because he feels they need a private spot to discuss themselves, away from interruptions, chances to be overheard. A space that was just theirs and didn’t have to be borrowed. Junhui’s apartment is far too tainted, associated with the destructive ghosts of their old selves.

It’s a fresh start, new ground.

He and Junhui somehow flow around each other in the kitchen as they start preparing some hot pot from an instant pack Minghao bought from the store the other week. Luckily, Junhui doesn’t mind that their food is essentially dehydrated. He even makes a comment on how it will still taste good because of the company and Minghao’s ears feel hot again while he’s looking for presentable cutlery. 

So, over instant hotpot at Minghao’s small brown dining table, they talk about the past few hours. Minghao consulting Jisoo about Junhui, Minghao awkwardly trying to confess to Junhui like a kid with a crush, Junhui somehow _not getting_ that Minghao was there to confess, Minghao interrupting his rehearsal.

“What were you expecting to happen after you asked Wonwoo-hyung to send those to me and you asked me to stay until the end of rehearsal?” Minghao complains, poking at his bowl with his chopsticks. 

A frown appears on Junhui’s face. “I was expecting you to wait until the end of rehearsal? Was that somehow not apparent when I said that?”

“Do you even know what you had him send me, Jun-ah?” Minghao asks, growing stressed at Junhui’s flat response. 

Junhui gives a simple nod, slurping some noodles in his mouth. “My recordings with him since I got back,” he answers, far too carefree for the absolute _wrought_ they caused Minghao’s heart. “They’re my confession to you. I wanted you to watch them.”

Minghao feels his expression melting, matching the feeling in his heart. He doesn’t know how Junhui can say that so easily. But at the same time, he feels like he understands. Junhui always needed a safe place and sometimes the camera ended up being that for him. “How did you not think I was going to run to you once I saw those?” he asks, soft and almost a little pitiful. “I wanted to interrupt when I already saw the first one.”

Junhui’s cheeks swell with food as he chews, eyes darting nervously along the table. “I didn’t know if you’d still even want to be with me,” he says in more of a mumble. “You could’ve seen them and still turned me down. You’re not that easy to read now.”

A taunting part of Minghao’s brain echoes Jisoo’s words back at him. He ends up fumbling out, “I uh, I thought you were dating Hansol-ah,” as his preemptive explanation. 

Junhui grimaces, jaw dropping wide. “Hansollie? My _son?_ ” He dramatically leans his body back in his seat and tucks his arms close to himself, scandalized. 

“He's not your son. I'm the one that raised him.” Minghao scoffs, hoping Junhui can’t tell how embarrassed he is by his assumption now. Sure, Minghao was wrong, but Junhui’s reaction to it just makes it feel far worse.

“Okay, but who does he act more like?”

“How is that a factor? You weren't even here!” Minghao protests. “How was he going to act like you when he's only known you a few months and he's worked with me for years?”

“Then how come he doesn't act like you if he's been with you for so long?”

Minghao tightens his lips together. “Shut up.”

Junhui shakes his head, rolling his eyes as he picks his chopsticks back up. “Hansollie is my son. He’s a good kid, I adopted him weeks ago,” Junhui says proudly, poking around at his food. “He knows this.” He pauses, slowly turning back to Minghao. “Wait, so this whole time you were holding back because you thought I was interested in Hansollie? Why would you even think that?”

He seems so utterly amused that Minghao isn’t sure if he wants to punch Junhui or himself. “Did you really not notice? You were so… _affectionate_ with him. You were always asking about him and you seemed really close really fast, like how you were with me before so I thought—” A finger pokes into Minghao's cheek. 

“So you were jealous. Again,” Junhui says, smirking. “Okay.”

Minghao swats his hand away, sighing. “Shut up, hyung.” He stops and takes Junhui’s hand back in his, softening his voice when he says, “Well also, you were so cold and angry before. And I hurt you so much already, I was terrified of doing it again.”

Something that looks like sympathy flashes through Junhui’s eyes as he places a chaste kiss to the back of Minghao’s hand, swinging it back and forth. “I thought you had a thing with Mingyu,” he admits woefully. “For a while, anyway, until I talked to him. But I thought you were dating someone else and that you were happy. And you were so insistent that you had no regrets about us that I figured… I didn’t make you happy and you were getting along better without me. I figured I really didn’t have a right to impose on that.”

Minghao frowns. They’re both so stupid. They spent so much time guarding themselves from preconceived notions and self-imposed rejection. So much that they almost lost each other again. “I should’ve tried to talk to you sooner.”

Junhui quickly shakes his head. “I should’ve too, it’s not just you.” He takes a few seconds, slurping at his hotpot. He seems to be mulling over something, having decided when he puts his chopsticks down. “If I,” he starts slowly, hesitantly looking down again. “If I had reached out to you about a year ago and asked you to come be with me again, would you have agreed?”

Minghao inhales, heart thumping. Would he have tried to do a long-distance relationship with Junhui again? Ask Seungcheol to relocate him overseas? Tell Mingyu he’s going to live with Junhui in another country? Figure out how to navigate his career in Jinhua, try to start a new one? In the middle of when Junhui’s career was blowing up? “Jun-ah, I— I told you not to ask questions you don’t want the answers to. Playing what-if doesn’t do us any good now.”

Junhui leans closer, inspecting his face carefully. He takes a noticeable inhale, leaning back in his seat. “You would have,” he decides, a painful realization and regret flashing through his eyes. “You would have said yes.” He rakes a hand through his hair, ruffling the strands. “I thought about it. I wanted to, I thought about it so much.”

Slowly, Minghao pushes away from the table, gets up and goes over to Junhui’s seat. He nudges Junhui’s ankle with his foot to scooch the chair out so he can slide onto Junhui’s lap, straddling him. “Jun-ah,” he starts, slipping his arms over Junhui’s shoulders as Junhui’s own hands automatically land on Minghao’s waist to hold him steady. “It doesn’t matter now. Whatever happened, we still found our way back to each other. I love you. Then, now, and in the future.” He dips his head down and captures Junhui’s lips on his own before waiting for a response, eyes fluttering closed. 

He hears Junhui take a steep inhale, hands on his waist holding tighter, neck craning up to meet him. The kiss is softer, slower now that they don’t have to worry about anyone else seeing them or wrapping up on time. Minghao breathes out a sigh of contentment, breath hitching when Junhui’s lips part for him, and he tastes the hotpot on Junhui’s tongue. 

What Minghao thought was going to be a decidedly delicate affair, a gentle heartfelt celebration of them reigniting their relationship, turns slightly frantic with the warm flush in his chest spreading through his body, urging him to push even closer to Junhui. Minghao, admittedly hungrily, kisses Junhui harder, trying to replace the years of ache and longing in his lungs with anything that is Junhui. Junhui groans a little into it, one hand slowly making its way up Minghao’s back when Minghao shifts to sit up a bit and try kissing him at a new angle. 

Minghao takes it as a good sign and pulls himself back only slightly, refusing to stray too far from Junhui’s space. “You wanna stay the night?” he whispers against his lips, petting the hair at the back of Junhui’s neck.

“Really?” Junhui asks, hand flexing slightly on his waist. “You don’t think it’s too soon?” 

As he slowly peeks his eyes open, Minghao shakes his head, placing a small kiss above Junhui’s top lip, right over the mole there. “I think we’ve waited long enough, don’t you?” He massages the back of Junhui’s neck, slowly moving into his hair.

Junhui only takes a split second to think about it, smiling as he lifts his head back up for another kiss. 

+++

Minghao tosses over on the bed, from his back and onto his side, towards Junhui in the center of the bed. He doesn’t bother opening his eyes as he groans out, “[Junhui, stop staring at me,]” he says groggily, the unmistakable weight of Junhui’s gaze heavy on him. “[Go to sleep.]”

Junhui hums, blankets rustling as Minghao feels Junhui shift closer to him. “[But I like staring at you, you’re really pretty.]” Minghao feels Junhui’s fingers card through his hair, fingernails tickling his scalp. “[I can sleep later.]”

Minghao sighs, letting out a groan that isn’t completely annoyed. “[You should sleep now. Don’t you have scenes to do tomorrow? We both have work and you need your rest.]” 

“[But if I sleep now, I’ll miss you too much.]”

Minghao groans, slightly amused and glad there isn’t enough light for Junhui to see how red his ears and cheeks probably are. He wonders if Junhui can hear his heart thundering from there. He moves his hand in the direction he’s guessing Junhui’s face is, feeling around so he can pat his cheek. “[You’re cute, but you have to sleep.]”

Junhui’s hand travels from his scalp to caress over Minghao’s cheek. “[I will. Soon. Just let me memorize this moment for a bit longer.]”

Minghao grunts. “[You’ll have more moments to memorize later, I promise.]”

After a few seconds of silence, Junhui’s only response is to pinch at Minghao’s cheek, tugging it slightly.

“[Now what are you doing?]”

“[I’m making sure this is real.]”

Minghao opens his eyes at the soft confession, not surprised when he sees Junhui’s eyes on him with an unmistakable fondness, shining in the limited moonlight. He thinks about how often Junhui must have thought about this, wonders how much Junhui must have dreamed of having Minghao back with him, only to be disappointed. He also thinks how big of an idiot he is not to have noticed sooner.

He places a hand over the one Junhui has on his cheek, which relaxes. “I’ll be here when you wake up, Jun-ah, don’t worry. You need to sleep.”

Junhui places a kiss on Minghao’s forehead. “Okay.” He hugs Minghao closer, tucking his chin over Minghao’s head. 

After a few seconds, Junhui’s breathing slows and evens, and then there’s a hand gently resting at the back of Minghao’s head. Minghao suddenly becomes far too aware of his breath, trying to level it to match Junhui’s, worried that if he breathes too hard, it will tickle Junhui’s skin too much and disturb him.

“[HaoHao?]” Junhui’s voice suddenly calls in a timid voice.

“Yeah?”

“About what you said before.” There’s a few seconds of silence and Minghao can almost hear Junhui’s heart rate picking up next to his head. “It was always you too, for me, I mean,” he admits into the darkness. “Even when I was in Jinhua, I couldn’t….”

Minghao’s next exhale feels particularly heavy. He wets his lips, thinking about how he wants to say he knows, knows because Jisoo told him. But it doesn’t feel like a good time to interrupt. 

Junhui’s fingers idly play with the hair at the back of Minghao’s head, sending tingles throughout his scalp and making his breath hitch. “I mean, I was only there because of you, it felt so weird being there without you,” he says, voice heavy and laden with too many emotions Minghao doesn’t dare try to pick out. “Not just because you said to pick up acting again but because of when you were encouraging me on set and helping me with roles, just because you thought I could be better and I… I love you for that.”

Minghao heaves out another rather heavy breath, releasing all the air he had stored up and drapes his arm over Junhui’s waist, tangling their legs together. “I always knew you could do well, Jun-ah. I told you that.”

Lips press to the top of Minghao’s head. “When was that?”

“When I—” Minghao stops himself. 

When he took that long look in Junhui’s apartment, hand clutched around the handle of his luggage before he walked out the door. _“[I know you’ll do well, Junhui-gē,]”_ he’d said, pausing before pulling the apartment door closed behind him. 

He doesn’t know if he wants to bring that up again so soon and tucks himself closer still, forehead resting against Junhui’s chest. “I’ll tell you later. But I just always knew you’d do well. You can always struggle in front of me and I’ll still say the same thing.”

Junhui hums, the hand in Minghao’s hair slowing until Minghao grunts out a small noise for him to continue. 

“I’ll say it to you tomorrow if you go to sleep now,” Minghao offers.

To his disappointment, Junhui’s hand actually stops moving this time. “Will you tell me when you wake up tomorrow too?”

“Yes, Jun-ah, anything you want.”

Junhui starts moving his hand through Minghao’s hair again, content with this answer and giving a small hum as his breathing becomes slow and even again. 

While he’s sure Junhui hasn’t fallen asleep yet, Minghao adds, “[I’m not going to leave again, Junhui. I promise.]”

+++

Something is _off_ with Myungho. And Hansol doesn’t quite know how to place it.

He notices his boss giggling at his phone a lot more, smiling and then tucking it under his chin while he bites at his lip before typing something back at his screen. He even thinks Myungho’s ears become redder than usual. Hansol idly wonders if Mingyu would know what to do about it. It’s not as bad as early frigid Myungho, he’ll admit, but he feels quite unprepared for how to handle it again. 

Hansol decides to prompt in the best way he knows how. “Did you have a good day yesterday, hyung?” he asks when he sees Myungho lowering his phone, a lull in his unusually giddy activities. He hopes he sounds more than casual. “Anything in particular happen?”

Myungho turns to him, eyes sparkling in a warm smile as he puts his phone away. “Hm? No, Hansol-ah, nothing out of the ordinary,” he hums, sounding calmly sweet. Before Hansol can raise another question about this, Myungho continues, “How are things with Kwan-ah?” 

Hansol blinks. “It’s fine, we’re both… doing fine,” he answers, unable to shake his suspicions. 

Myungho hums again, tilting his head almost fondly. “That’s great. Let me take you both out for dinner soon, okay?” 

“I uh, okay, hyung,” Hansol replies, still not fully processing what’s going on. He pulls out his phone anyway. “I’ll let him know.” As he pulls up his chat history with Seungkwan, Hansol runs through his memory in a vague attempt to recall a time Myungho was ever like this. 

When Hansol types out his message of _‘Myungho-hyung is offering to take us out to dinner soon. Let me know when is okay with you and I’ll tell him’_ to Seungkwan, the studio door opens before he hits send. 

Junhwi’s head pops in, glancing at Hansol with a cheerful, “Hey Hansollie!” before he turns to grin at Myungho, who immediately gets out of his seat to greet him at the door. 

Hansol wants to think it’s odd, the way Myungho seemed to automatically float to Junhwi without thinking, the way they suddenly start bouncing rapid-fire Mandarin off each other. 

But when Hansol notices Myungho’s hand slipping into Junhwi’s own without either of them looking away from each other, notices how their fingers intertwine, and notices Junhwi giggling and pressing a quick kiss onto a sulking Myungho’s forehead until Myungho breaks into his own giggle, Hansol thinks it makes perfect sense. He thinks everything makes perfect sense now, actually. 

And if Hansol were half as nosy or invested as Seungkwan, he’d try to film some of it or snap a picture to send, just to see his reaction. But he doesn’t because he feels like he’s intruding on something personal again. Just like he always has with these two, he sighs to himself. He perks up when he notices Myungho gesturing a hand back in his direction, the Mandarin coming out sounding like Seungkwan’s name. He then hears Han-something but he doesn’t want to presume it’s him. 

But Junhwi peers over at him, then looks back and Myungho and nods. “Do you want me to come too or you wanted to treat the kids on your own?” And Hansol thinks it’s safe to bet it’s about him.

Myungho hums in thought, head tilting as he adjusts Junhwi’s shirt collar with his free hand. “Hm, well you know how much of a handful Kwan-ah is on his own, so if you don’t have shooting or rehearsal at the time, it’d be nice if you could come.”

Junhwi purses his lips, grinning before he places a quick kiss to Myungho’s nose. “Okay. Since you’re asking so nicely, I’ll see what I can do.”

Hansol blinks, not sure if he’s supposed to add to this conversation. He looks down at his phone, remembering to actually send the text to Seungkwan. When he’s done, he looks back up at them and sees they weren’t really paying attention to him anyway. They’re back in their own world.

“Why do you call him Kwan-ah?” Junhwi asks in a pout. “Is that just to get around Mingyu’s superstition? Because I’ve said his name with Hansollie several times before and nothing happened.”

Myungho sighs, waving a hand around. “Mingyu was so paranoid for years. He insisted and I just got used to it. You’ve seen how Mingyu gets when he’s freaking out about that, try _living with that_ since uni _._ Kwan-ah doesn’t mind anyway, it’s turned into an affectionate nickname.” He pauses, biting at a finger. “Although, I’m not sure if he knows that’s why we call him that.”

Hansol frowns, not sure how he feels about his boyfriend being discussed like this in front of him. “What are you talking about?” 

Junhwi glances at Myungho before beaming in Hansol’s direction. “Mingyu thinks that if you say Seungkwan’s name, he gets summoned somehow. I’ve only seen it happen once but Mingyu was so insistent it happens all the time.” He glances around for a few seconds, waiting. 

Hansol shakes his head. He feels like that’s something Mingyu would have told him about when they met. He also feels like that’s something he would have taken advantage of if he could at the time, instead of awkwardly trying to book Mingyu just to have an excuse to talk to Seungkwan. Hansol doesn’t believe it. “I’ve said Seungkwan’s name several times and nothing’s happened.” 

Junhwi gestures towards him, looking directly at Myungho. “See? And nothing’s happening now and we said his name twice.” 

Myungho slaps Junhui’s arm down. “Jun-ah, don’t point. And you’re convincing the wrong person.” Myungho continues talking in a blurb that Hansol doesn’t catch when his phone buzzes at Seungkwan’s reply. 

_‘Aw, that’s nice of him!! I’m good any time next week for dinner, whatever Myungho-hyung decides!!’_ with a bunch of cute blushing smiley emojis and a sticker. 

Hansol quickly types back, _‘Jun-hyung will be there too. Most likely.’_ as a heads up.

The _‘1’_ beside his message quickly appears and Hansol watches the bubble on Seungkwan’s side of the screen dancing with ellipses before he hears a ringing from somewhere in the room. When he glances down at his phone, Seungkwan’s bubble has stopped dancing but it isn’t his phone that’s ringing. 

“Hello?” Myungho says into his phone. “Kwan-ah?”

Hansol is somehow impressed, but not surprised, at the sheer volume Seungkwan possesses sometimes. He’s pretty sure Myungho’s phone isn’t on speaker but he can still hear Seungkwan screeching, _“Myungho-hyung! What’s this about you taking me and Hansol out for dinner with Moon Junhwi? What’s going on? Are you guys back together? Hyung, you have to tell me everything this time, okay?”_

If he hadn’t been watching and known how invested Seungkwan was in Myungho’s relationship with Junhwi until this point, Hansol might be somewhat offended that his boyfriend chose to call his boss instead of him. But he’s not and finds the situation more amusing than anything. 

Hansol can only see Myungho in profile, blinking at his phone and opening his mouth like he’s about to respond. However, with an amused smirk on his face, Junhwi takes the phone from Myungho’s hand and puts it to his own ear.

“Seungkwannie! I’m so glad you called!” Junhwi says, looking at the ceiling. Myungho says something in Mandarin in a low voice and Junhwi just nods. “Is Mingyu around?” 

Somehow, this time, Seungkwan isn’t loud enough that Hansol can hear. He’s not sure if it has to do with Seungkwan being stunned at it being Junhwi talking to him or that Junhwi took over Myungho’s phone. Maybe both.

“He is? Oh, that’s too bad, can you ask him to call me back? Not on this phone, this is Myungho’s phone. Ask him to call me on my phone. He has my number,” Junhwi continues, sounding far too casual. “Ah, right, did you need to talk to Myungho about something?” 

Myungho has an almost pitiful look on his face, like he’s starting to feel bad about teasing Seungkwan like this. He taps at Junhwi’s shoulder and gestures for the phone back. 

Junhwi has no free hand to gesture for Myungho to hold on a second and purses his lips in what Hansol is assuming was a _shhh._ But Myungho seemingly misinterprets and plants a quick kiss on his lips instead. Hansol quickly covers his mouth in an attempt to hide the snort of a laugh that came out of him, especially when Junhwi’s eyes widen and prove Hansol’s guess correct. 

“Hi, Kwan-ah? Sorry about that,” Myungho says as he grabs the phone back in Junhwi’s stunned pause. “Yes, we’ll tell you everything over dinner, okay? Figure out the schedule with Hansol-ah and let me— Next week? Ah, Jun-hyung will try to be there but he might have a shooting and— Uh, he probably will if you ask him. Why didn’t you just ask him a second ago? Oh.” Myungho holds the phone against his chest for a second to murmur, “He wants to know if you’ll take a selfie with him,” towards Junhwi. 

Junhwi just laughs and says, “Sure, it’s not a big deal.” 

Myungho pouts. “He said he was too shy to ask you.” 

Junhwi smiles, rearranging some strands out of Myungho’s face. “Aw, that’s cute. He’s just like you.” 

Myungho huffs and puts the phone back to his ear. “He said he will.” 

As Hansol watches them, he really starts to think that everything was making perfect sense. Even if he does get the urge to glance off to the side at an imaginary camera, a consequence of watching too much of that show Joshua recommended to him. 

Myungho wraps up his call with Seungkwan and pockets his phone, looking back up at Junhwi with the look in his eyes that Hansol has only seen exactly twice so far. The first was during the lunch with Joshua months ago, the second was during the photoshoot that Hansol was in charge of, the evidence still sitting in his computer folders somewhere. 

Junhwi teeters forward on his feet, looking back at Myungho with an equally fond look. “Well, I just came by to say hi. Anything else before I go?”

Myungho lets out another hum, once again adjusting the collar of Junwhi’s shirt. “Hm, be good on set, tell Myungsoo-hyung I said hi. If Yongsun-noona is there, tell her I said hi too, if Yerin-ssi is there, keep an eye on her but not actually. Don’t beat yourself up over fumbling your lines, be good to your seniors, don’t scare the juniors.”

Junhwi rolls his eyes, chuckling. “Got it,” he says with a smirk that Hansol thinks is far too amused. “By the way, we have to swing by and talk to Channie later, don’t forget.”

Myungho freezes, eyes briefly widening. Hansol wonders what they would have to talk to Chan about but he supposes it’s none of his business. “Right, right.” Myungho swipes outwards at Junhui’s shoulder. “And if you get worried on set again—”

“Think of you?” Junhwi guesses with a cheeky sort of grin. 

Myungho sighs, almost in resignation, and tugs on Junhwi’s earlobe. “If it helps, Jun-ah.” Hansol knows enough to know Myungho is trying very hard to keep the smile from poking too high on his lips. It’s rather cute in a way he didn’t expect to come out of Myungho after all this time.

“Then I will.” Junhwi takes another quick kiss from Myungho’s lips before he tilts himself to look at Hansol over Myungho’s shoulder. It is then that Hansol notices a small triangular earring dangling from Junhwi’s left earlobe. “See you, Hansollie! Don’t let Myungho boss you around too much!”

Myungho shoves Junhwi’s shoulder. “Get out of here already, stop trying to influence my assistant.”

“You say the same thing to Shua-hyung whenever you leave me with him, why can’t I say anything to Hansollie? I’m taking him to meet Heechullie-hyung later,” Junhwi returns. “And if you want me to leave so bad, let go of my hand.”

Hansol doesn’t know much about Heechul. He’s heard stories, mostly from Chan, that he’s very close to Junhwi and that he apparently adopted him in the same way that Junhwi has claimed to have adopted Hansol. Junhwi had asked Hansol if he’d like to come get drinks together and Hansol said sure, why not. 

Myungho’s eyes flash, hand falling out of Junhwi’s. “You’re taking him to meet Heechul-hyung? Why?”

Junhwi frowns, eyes swelling in concern. “I just thought he’d like to meet him. Heechullie-hyung’s been sentimental these days, you know how he is.”

“I….” Myungho nibbles at his lip, looking back between Junhwi and Hansol, somehow worried before he turns back to Junhwi with a small sigh. “Fine, but bring him back okay.”

Junhwi nods, brushing some of Myungho's hair behind his ear, hand lingering on the shell of it. “You can come too if you like. Heechullie-hyung likes you.”

As Myungho gets into his flustered explanation of why he thinks Heechul might be wary of him, Hansol once again wonders how he gets stuck watching them like this. If they hadn’t mentioned his name two seconds ago, he would’ve guessed they didn’t even know he was in the room. But he does think he prefers them being grossly couple-y like this than their arguing or whatever that tense awkward verbal dancing all those months ago was. 

He wants to think it’s odd, the way they talk and flow into each other more like a couple that’s been together for years rather than one who only recently got together. But after everything he’s heard and everything he’s seen with them, Hansol thinks it somehow makes perfect sense.

After actually finishing his cheerful goodbye, Junhwi bounds down the hallway and Myungho returns to his seat, pulling his chair close to his desk. He clears his throat, ears still burning as he looks for papers to suddenly straighten. He very much looks like he’s trying to push the smile off his face and is failing but he’d rather not draw attention to it. 

Hansol, however, doesn’t feel like heeding that right now. “Hyungie?”

Myungho clears his throat again. “Yes, Hansol-ah?”

“I thought you said nothing in particular happened recently,” he says, leaning his arm on his desk and resting his chin on it, watching his boss with his own grin he can’t push down. “You being super cute with Jun-hyung seems like something.”

Myungho’s eyes briefly flutter in a series of blinks. “Yes, well” —he clears his throat once more— “Jun-hyung and I are dating. Again.” 

Hansol presses his lips together in a tight line to stop himself from laughing as he starts bobbing his head. “That’s great, hyung.” He doesn’t know if Myungho is expecting him to act surprised but Hansol isn’t about to insult either of their intelligence by pretending he is. “It’s about time. I’m happy for both of you.” He considers asking why it only happened now, after everything he’d seen, what was stopping him since Hansol was sure Junhwi was willing to take him back weeks ago, but he figures that’s none of his business. 

Myungho nods, cheeks pressed up in an embarrassed sort of smile. “Thanks, Hansol-ah.”

Hansol nods. “Sure, hyung.” He leans back in his chair, spinning around. “By the way, you don’t have to tell me how it happened. I’m just glad you’re together.”

Myungho frowns. “But Kwan-ah will still want to know?”

“Oh, definitely,” Hansol confirms, lips stretching into a wide grin. “It’s not a want with him, he _needs_ to hear you talk about it.”

Myungho sighs, ears flushing up as he puts his papers down. “I suppose I better tell him everything then.”

***** ***** *****

_Four years later_

Junhui gently closes the apartment door behind him as he returns from the airport taxi. He’d been in Jinhua again, this time for three weeks doing promotional interviews for a movie he filmed last year. This was as a detective’s assistant in a crime thriller that he was enthusiastic about and Minghao strongly encouraged after going through the script. 

Junhui liked teasing that Minghao only _strongly_ encourages roles where Junhui doesn’t have much of an on-screen love interest. Not that he discourages Junhui from taking roles with love interests, he just doesn’t push them as hard. 

Minghao always argued back that he doesn’t mind if Junhui has to kiss someone if it’s part of a role. As long as the other actors involved knew that Junhui was already taken. Junhui had asked when was the last time he ever turned down a chance to gush about Minghao and Minghao conceded his point. Mostly begrudgingly. 

The apartment is dark when he gets in, which he expected since it’s four in the morning. Or three, he’s not sure with the time zone shifts. Minghao will probably tell him later. 

Speaking of, after Junhui toes off his shoes and takes a step towards the living area, he spots Minghao curled up on the sofa. He has his knees up at his chest and his arms are hugging the long, pale orange stuffed cat plushie Junhui had bought as a joke one Christmas. Minghao had scoffed at it at the time but Junhui loved it and named it HuiHui. He leaves his luggage near the entryway, under the yellow painting hanging on the wall there, and moves closer to the sofa.

Junhui crouches, sneakily taking a picture of Minghao hugging the stuffed feline, knowing he can only get away with it now because Minghao is fast asleep. 

After putting away his phone, Junhui takes a few extra seconds before he wakes up Minghao, despite his worry for the angle Minghao’s head has lolled at, to trace over Minghao’s face with his eyes. Even now, Junhui still wants to memorize everything in this moment, the shape of Minghao’s eyes, the slope of his nose, the fullness of his cheeks, the peaceful expression on his lips, the silver peeking out under his sleeve.

After a few seconds, Junhui slips his hand to hold the back of Minghao’s head and gently eases it up. “[Hao. Wake up, _shǎguā._ You’re going to strain your neck.]”

Minghao stirs, lips curling into a frown. As his eyes flutter and he seems to regain his senses, he takes in Junhui staring at him and hugs HuiHui closer to himself almost protectively. “[What are you doing?]”

Junhui chuckles. “[My plane landed an hour ago and I just got in. What are _you_ doing? Why are you sleeping out here when there’s a perfectly good bed in our room?]”

Minghao pouts, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand. “[I was waiting for you to come home.]”

“[With HuiHui,]” Junhui points out, giggling. 

Minghao’s eyes dart around, hugging the plushie closer still. “[Yes. And what about it, Wen Jun _hui?_ I must’ve just fallen asleep is all.]” 

Junhui chuckles again, placing a kiss on Minghao’s forehead as he stands up. “I can see that. But you know I would’ve come home whether you were awake or not, right?”

Minghao’s eyes flicker with something that Junhui doesn’t quite catch. Embarrassment, shame, fondness, fear, Junhui isn’t sure. But Minghao huffs, flinging the throw blanket off his lap as he stands up. He tosses HuiHui aside to the other cushion, patting his thighs as if dusting himself off. “Well, I didn’t want to miss it,” he says, turning to Junhui, looping his arms around his waist, “even if it _is_ four in the morning. How was your flight?”

Junhui sits his chin on Minghao’s shoulder, holding the back of his head. “It was fine, same as the other flights. I much prefer here though.” He shrugs, stepping out of Minghao’s arms to fetch his luggage at the doorway.

Minghao’s lips tighten in his mouth as he nods. “You should go shower, I can get some food ready for you by the time you get out.”

Junhui hums, tugging his luggage towards the direction of their bedroom as Minghao scurries towards the kitchen.

“[Junhui,]” Minghao calls suddenly.

Junhui pauses, looking over his shoulder and nods at him, questioning. 

“[I missed you. _Bèndàn._ ]”

Junhui laughs, watching the tips of Minghao’s ears turn red again. “[I missed you too, HaoHao.]”

Minghao smiles, cheeks pushing up in what Junhui has gathered is a fond contentment and Junhui continues his trek into the bedroom, setting aside his luggage and picking out clothes from his dresser to change into. 

When Junhui comes out from his shower, towel moving through his damp strands, he finds HuiHui laying on their bed, neatly tucked in Junhui’s spot with the throw blanket Minghao was using earlier. He pats the stuffed plushie’s cheek. “Don’t let him trick you into thinking he doesn’t love you.” He passes the dining area where Minghao has set up small bowls of vegetable side dishes and some eggs next to the small rice bowl. “[HaoHao?]”

“Yes, Jun-ah?” Minghao calls back from the kitchen.

Junhui slowly approaches Minghao looking through their tupperware of leftovers in the fridge. “I was talking to Myungsoo-sunbae before I came home and he said something to me.”

Minghao pulls out a tupperware of congee, smiling as he closes the fridge doors. “Uh-huh, yes, go on,” he chimes, moving over to set the tupperware on the counter and searches the stove for a small pot. Junhui thinks it’s almost funny how seemingly calm Minghao is, after what happened the other times Myungsoo had told one of them something about the other. 

“For my promotional interview next week at MBC,” Junhui breaches slowly, “he said you asked him to leave in the questions about my dating life.” 

After Minghao pops the tupperware lid open, he pauses, eyes cautiously glancing up. “Is that okay with you?”

Junhui hums, tossing his head to the side. “You know I’ve never had a problem talking about you, I’m just. I wanted to make sure you were really okay if I ever went public about us. Since that’s what would happen.”

Minghao starts nodding, scooping out the congee into the pot before grabbing two bowls from the cupboard. “Yeah, I mean, that’s why I told Myungsoo-hyung that he can leave those in, I’m okay with it. I uh, but if you’re not, you can totally still tell Myungsoo-hyung to get rid of them. I’m just saying you both have my permission to… keep them in.”

Junhui hums in slight suspicion, carefully watching Minghao focusing on the stove. Minghao’s movements seem more awkwardly stiff and nervous than he’s seen him before and Junhui doesn’t know how to place it. The last time he thinks Minghao was like this was when he stumbled through his confession asking for another chance. But Junhui chooses to remember that fondly. 

He reaches a hand out, about to inspect the reddening shell of Minghao’s ear but Minghao whirls around before he gets the chance.

“Ah, but do me a favor?” Minghao asks, closing the tupperware container and handing it back to Junhui. He takes this as his cue to put the container back in the fridge, the favor in question. As he opens the fridge door and finds a vacant spot to slide the container in, Minghao continues, “If you do mention me, can you please refrain from saying ‘Isn’t he cute’ or anything embarrassing like that?”

Junhui quickly —and dramatically— shuts the fridge door, head whipping back to Minghao in shock. “ _What?_ But [HaoHao,] that’s my fundamental right as your boyfriend! What am I supposed to say if I can’t talk about how cute you are?”

Minghao smiles, stare fixed on him. “You could say I'm your fiancé, if you want.”

Junhui blinks, air escaping his lungs too quickly. He’s stuck staring at Minghao as his brain forgets what to do while he chokes on his new unexpected loss of air.

“Yah, Jun-ah, what kind of reaction is that?” Minghao rushes out. “I should’ve asked first before I told Myungsoo-hyung it’d be okay to change your interview questions, huh?”

Junhui catches himself, coughing as he quickly shakes his head. “Wait, are you serious?”

Minghao quickly nods. “Yes, I’m serious.” He slides open a drawer, glancing down and closing it just as fast. “Ah, right. I had to hide the ring at Mingyu’s because obviously I couldn’t hide it here, and I thought you might find it if I left it at Wonwoo’s but yes,” he says firmly. “[I want to marry you, Wen Junhui.]”

Junhui’s brain takes a few more seconds to catch up to this information. His heart is thumping through his ears and his jaw refuses to shut, left only to stare. 

Minghao takes the chance to get out a wooden spoon and stir at the congee in the pot, turning his attention back to it with a hand on his hip. “[I _did_ talk to your mom first, in case you try to bring that up again,]” he huffs in that indignant way Junhui knows he does to hide just how embarrassed he is. The tips of his ears lighting up can attest to that. “[She said to call her when you land so we should probably do that later. Look, I know it doesn’t look like I seriously planned this out but I swear I—]”

“Yes!” Junhui exclaims, his brain finally remembering how to send signals to his mouth. “Yes, yes, yes, yes,” he says on repeat, stepping forward to cup Minghao’s face in his hands. He presses a quick kiss to his cheek, peppering them all over the left side of his face; next to his ear, the corner of his lips, beside his eye, wherever he can while Minghao is still facing the stove. 

Minghao lets go of the wooden spoon, fumbling to maintain balance and Junhui lets go, regaining himself. Minghao places a hand at the back of Junhui’s neck, holding him still as he looks into his eyes. “I love you.”

Junhui can hear it, how Minghao’s heart is skipping in happiness whispering his name, telling Junhui that Minghao means it with everything he has. He wonders if Minghao can hear his own heart, beating just as fast, chanting out a combination of _yes, I love you,_ and Minghao’s name on repeat. He wants to be able to bottle this feeling, knowing that any attempt to recreate it in performance would pale terribly in comparison. He doesn’t know how to explain it, he thinks, the rush, the warmth, the fondness for the person in front of him that he thought wouldn’t grow more than it already has. He settles for the only words that come close. 

“I love you.” He cups his palms around Minghao’s cheeks.

Minghao’s face squishes into an embarrassed smile, nodding as best as he can. It’s terribly adorable until he tears his gaze away to look back at the stove. He mutters a _Shit_ under his breath, pulling out of Junhui’s grip to tend to their pot of congee. 

Junhui doesn’t mind if the congee happens to taste off later. He’ll try to explain it later but he’s not sure if he’ll be able to, even as Minghao calls at him to pass him one of the bowls, the sounds of the awkwardness of their beginning, their long separation, their arduous reunion, their future, unknown but shining with hope and promise. The future of them together he could only have imagined years ago.

He doesn’t care that the congee _does_ taste off because this is the start of his future with Minghao. He’s going to cherish every moment and fumbling mistake they happen to make together for the rest of their lives, knowing Minghao will always say the same things back to him. 

At his promotional interview, Junhui would talk in circles at the dating question, asked by the friendly TV host who does her best not to make it sound awkward. He abides by Minghao’s request not to gush over how cute he is, but instead, he calls Minghao a driving force in his life, the most precious person to him, someone who made him forget how much time passes between them when they’re together, incomparable to anything except his dreams. He’s well aware of how embarrassed Minghao will be when he gets home but Junhui figures he technically agreed to this. 

For the first few minutes, he would avoid using Minghao’s name, instead starting with “I have someone.”

But as Junhui catches a glimpse of the silver on his left ring finger, he sits up straight, looks up for the camera focused on him, and proudly says, “And he’s my fiancé. I’m going to marry him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes I wrote out the script of each of Jun's video entries after the scene in question, they were also planned for a while.  
> HuiHui the long cat plushie is based on [this beautiful creature](https://x4j5u6e5.rocketcdn.me/wp-content/uploads/2018/11/8271-qepd8f.jpg). I got the idea after my dad gave me one of korilakkuma.
> 
> extra notes:  
> * if anyone was wondering why none of the chapter titles were from SVT songs, it's because their songs got worked into the chapter text itself throughout the entire story~  
> * all the chapter titles were all meant to be read from Jun's POV instead of Minghao for extra fun
> 
> thank you to everyone who gave this fic a chance and commented and read up until this point ;w; I know it was a lot so thank you for sticking with it ♡ this was basically my love child for about seven months? (two more and it could've been a real child) this really had no business being this long, like I never planned to go over 100k words and now we ended at almost double that and I'm so touched to see people respond so positively to it ;w; and thank you **emily** for putting up with all my inane ramblings and supporting them anyway 🥺🥺🥺🥰🥰🥰 I don't know if I would've finished without you ♡♡♡♡♡
> 
>   
> I've prepared [ a doc](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1BbWztolGkpYgEtyuVcLp0CSyDQh4WwqTsob8TkT74UI/edit?usp=sharing) of all the additional notes and scenes I had to cut while working on this fic if anyone is interested~ It's mostly extra world-building stuff, what-could-have-beens, and abandoned scenes but it's totally not necessary to read for this story. 
> 
> see you next year in my next fic~ I promise it won't be as long or complicated as this one. Thanks again to everyone for reading and supporting this story! Happy holidays and stay safe!  
> [twitter ](https://twitter.com/paishhao) | [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.qa/paishhao)
> 
> ((if you're on a re-read and you see something, you can totally ask me "was this referring to this?" and I will likely answer you))


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